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WAITi :, PEIRCE & CO. 


1846. 







THE 


\ 


YOUNG WIFE, 


OR 


DUTIES OF WOMAN IN THE MARRIAGE 
RELATION. 


BY WM. A. ALCOTT, 

Author of the Young Husband, Young Mother, Young Woman’s 
Guide, House I Live In, &c. 


3Elebentjj Stereotype TBuiUon. 


BOSTON: 

WAITE, PEIRCE AND COMPANY, 

NO. 1 CORNHILL. 

1846. 




■f-ntx 

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, 
by Wm. A. Alcott, in the Clerk’s Office of the District 
Court of Massachusetts. 




♦ 



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CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. GENERAL REMARKS. 

Objects of marriage. Duties of a wife. Her importance 
as an educator. Why. . .21—24 

CHAPTER 11. SUBMISSION. 

A common error abroad. Real object of woman. In 
what respects she is to submit to her husband. Bible 
doctrine on this subject. Physical inferiority. Con¬ 
cession must be made. Leaving home. Anecdote of 
a married coilple. Caution to the young wife. . 25—32 

CHAPTER III. KINDNESS. 

Effects of kindness on brute animals—on savages—on 
children. Case of a father. Effects of kindness on 
servants and slaves—on a husband. Opinion of 
Solomon. A new era. Its results to woman. Coun¬ 
sel. Beautiful extracts.33—40 

CHAPTER IV. CHEERFULNESS. 

Influence of cheerfulness. Opinion of the Journal of 
Health. Dr. Salgues’ opinion. Interesting anecdote. 
Evils of a want of cheerfulness. Story of Alexis and 
Emilia. Reflections. . . . .41—48 





6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER V. CONFIDENCE. 

Duty of confidence. Married women not always wives. 
Confiding in gossips. Fault in education. A bad 
husband not to be given up. Experiment in trusting. 

We should have but few secrets.49—52 

CHAPTER VI. SYMPATHY. 

Scripture doctrine. Miss Edgeworth’s opinion—Dr 
Rush’s. Effects of sympathy. Disposition to vex 
each other. A caution. Sympathy the first step to 
improvement.53—58 

CHAPTER VII. FRIENDSHIP. 

Few real friends. Parents not always true friends to 
children. Anecdote. Stormy period of life. Neces¬ 
sity of a friend. Arrangement of Providence. Wo¬ 
man sent as the friend of man. Wives the truest 
friends. Four qualifications for this office. Religion 
considered. Enemies sometimes friends. . . . 59—68 


CHAPTER VIII. LOVE. 

Is it necessary for love to decline after marriage ? In¬ 
ternal love increases. Means of increasing it. Doing 
good to others makes us love them. Anecdotes; the 
little girl—the deist. Love, a matter within our own 
control. General rule. Cautions.69—78 

CHAPTER IX. DELICACY AND MODESTY. 

Many forms of immodesty. A quotation. Modesty in 
matrimony. Unchaste language. Example to the 
husband. Specimens of bad examples. . . . 79—#2 





CONTENTS. 


7 


CHAPTER X. LOVE OF HOME. 

Paul’s opinion. Effects of “ gadding.” Anecdote. Dis¬ 
like of home. Error in female education. Impor¬ 
tance of loving home. A picture drawn by Solomon. 
Two pictures by Abbott. Effects of loving home on the 
family. Hints to the reader. The Family Monitor. 83—96 

CHAPTER XI. SELF-RESPECT. 

A principle. Self-respect should be early cultivated. 

An anecdote. r 97—100 

CHAPTER XII. PURITY OF CHARACTER. 

Explanation of the term. Impurity of character very 
common. Case of Lucius and Emilia. Seduction. 

The consequences. Several hints.101—107 

CHAPTER XIII. SIMPLICITY. 

Simplicity a virtue. Very rare. Simplicity of language. 
Story of Mrs. L. Simplicity of conduct. . . 108—112 

CHAPTER XIV. NEATNESS. 

Great importance of neatness. Want of it. Effects on 
the husband. Neatness in small matters. Structure 
of the skin. Necessity of bathing. Effect of neatness 
on morals. Effect of example. Difficulties consid¬ 
ered. How to train a husband to slovenliness. Want 
of neatness in little things.113—121 

CHAPTER XV. ORDER AND METHOD. 

Order, heaven’s first law. Importance to the house¬ 
keeper. Book-learning. Prejudices against it. Story 
of Fidelia. Consequences of disorder. . . . 122—125 




8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XVI. PUNCTUALITY. 

Punctuality lengthens life—is indispensable. Its influ* 
ence on others. Various forms of punctuality. Anec¬ 
dote. Reflections. Case of the farmer. The wife’s 
excuses. Real state of the case. Appeal to those 
whom it concerns.126—134 

CHAPTER XVII. EARLY RISING. 

The young wife should rise early. Means of forming 
the habit. Retire early—with a quiet stomach—a 
quiet mind. Resolve strongly. Early training. Mr. 
and Mrs. Clifford. Samuel Sidney. Reflections. 135—14G 

CHAPTER XVIII. INDUSTRY. 

An anecdote. Motives to industry. Bible examples 
of this virtue.147—151 

CHAPTER XIX. DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 

Economy a word of broad meaning. Much of this chap¬ 
ter anticipated. Servants—their general employment 
to be regretted. Spirit of the times—illustrated by an 
anecdote. American nobles. Servants cannot always 
be dispensed with. Seven reasons for avoiding them, 
if possible. 1. They are unnecessary. 2. Costly. 3. 
Break in upon the order of families. 4. Create dis¬ 
tinctions in society. 5. Are bad teachers. 6. Practice 
anti-republican. 7. It is unchristian. Waste of time 
in cookery. What useful cookery is. Other waste¬ 
ful practices. Morning calls. General remarks. An 
anecdote.152—177 

CHAPTER XX. DOMESTIC REFORM. 

Present state of things. Females ignorant of domestic 
concerns. A great mistake in education. Nature 





CONTENTS. 


9 


of the mistake. Cause of the pecuniary distress of our 
country. Example of ministers. Change or reform 
necessary. How it is to be effected. By whom begun. 

The young wife to begin it. She should begin imme¬ 
diately. One serious difficulty. How to overcome it. 
Gradual reformation. Rapid progress, ultimately. 
Book learning. How far books are useful. “ The 
Frugal Housewife.” “ Bread and Bread-making.” 178—191 

CHAPTER XXI. SOBRIETY. 

Definition of the term. Something more than tem¬ 
perance. Tea drinking. Effects of tea and coffee. 
Physiology of their effects. Nervous excitement— 
compared with intoxication. Proofs of the author’s 
views. Sobriety at feasts. Sobriety in company. 
Other forms of sobriety.192—199 

CHAPTER XXII. DISCRETION. 

Paul’s estimate of the importance of discretion. Opin¬ 
ions of Gisborne. Various forms of indiscretion. 
Danger of extremes. What true purity is. A word 
of caution to the indiscreet. 200—204 

CHAPTER XXIII. SCOLDING. 

Many kinds of scolds. Internal scolding. Intermit¬ 
tent scolds. Periodical scolding. Other forms of 
scolding. Hints over the husband’s shoulder. 205—207 

CHAPTER XXIV. FORBEARANCE. 

Perfection not to be expected. Maxim of a philosopher. 
Spirit of forbearance a pearl of great price. Cases 
where forbearance is required. Triumphing, “ I told 
you so.” Comparisons. Joking. Saying of Salz- 
man. ... . 208—212 







10 


CONTENTS 




CHAPTER XXV. CONTENTMENT. 

< 

Value of contentment. Why it is especially valuable 
to the young wife. Duty to her own family and 
others. Duty to God.213—217 

CHAPTER XXVI. HABITS AND MANNERS. 

Little things. Setting out in life. Important to set 
out right. Difficulty with some husbands. How to 
manage. Eugene and Juliet. General principles. 218—221 

CHAPTER XXVII. DRESS. 

Opinion of Paul. Real objects of dress. Modesty. 
Dress should regulate our temperature. Frequent 
change—why useful. General rule. A painful sight. 
Nature of profuse perspiration, or sweating. Material 
of dress. Objections to cotton. Fashion of dress. 
Compression of the lungs—its evils. Sympathies. 
Moderate indulgence. Hiding defects by dress. 
Dress of the husband. 222—244 

CHAPTER XXVIII. HEALTH. 

Purity of the air in our apartments. Purity of clothing— 
furniture—cellars—drains—wells, &c. Personal clean¬ 
liness. Its expense not to be considered. Various 
modes of exercise. Household labor. Exercise in the 
open air. Walking. Riding. Health, in our own 
keeping. The husband’s health. General remarks. 245—256 

CHAPTER XXIX. ATTENDING THE SICK. 

Attending the sick should be a part of female education. 
Objections to this view considered. Reasons why 
females should be thus trained. Their native quali- 




CONTENTS 


11 


fications for this office. Their labor cheaper. They 
have stronger sympathies. Application of the prin¬ 
ciple to the case of the young wife. 257—264 

CHAPTER XXX. LOVE OF INFANCY AND 
CHILDHOOD. 

What the love of childhood is. Frequent want of it. 

Dr. Gregory’s opinion—Mr. Addison’s. Great gulf 
fixed between children and adults. Love of child¬ 
hood favorable to mental improvement—to the hap¬ 
piness of the wife—to the happiness of her husband— 
to religious improvement. Example of the Saviour. 
How to elicit this love, when it is wanting. Remarks 
on faith. What faith can enable us to accomplish. 265—273 

CHAPTER XXXI. GIVING ADVICE. 

Advice of females in regard to business. Why it is 
often undervalued Objections answered. How far 
advice is applicable Advice in manners and morals. 
Advice in religion. . 274—283 

CHAPTER XXXII. SELF-GOVERNMENT. 

Difficulties of self-government. Meaning of the term. 
Error in education. What is to be done? Motive 
to be presented. Directions how to proceed. Co¬ 
operation of the husband. The results happy. 284—291 

CHAPTER XXXIII. INTELLECTUAL IMPROVE¬ 
MENT. 

Anecdote of Mrs. H. Course of study after marriage. 
Much of it excellent. Cooperation of the husband and 
wife. Nature of education. Difficulties of studying 



12 


CONTENTS. 


in married life. They may be overcome. Impor¬ 
tance of system. Evils of a want of it. Anecdote. 
Chemistry. Its importance illustrated. Terrible 
consequences of ignorance in housewifery. Much 
poisoning in the community. Study of other sciences. 
Anatomy and physiology. A few books recommended. 
Collateral topics of study. Knowledge necessary to 
benevolent effort. Study of the subject of education. 
Errors. Theory and experience. 202—326 

CHAPTER XXXIV. SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 

Anecdote of Alcibiades. Intention of the Creator. 
Marriage of course a social state. Morning calls. 
Evening visits. Excitements. Balls and theatres. 
Visiting in the afternoon. Social advantages of large 
families. Visiting by large companies. Topics of 
conversation. Scandal. Opposition of human na¬ 
ture to the gospel. Reading at social meetings. An 
important caution. 327—338 

CHAPTER XXXV. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS 
IMPROVEMENT. 

Doing good. Many forms of doing good. Philosophy 
of doing good. Associated effort. How to select 
societies. Individual charitable effort. The poor. 

The ignorant. The vicious. The sick. Caution in 
regard to visiting the sick. Prayer as a means of 
improvement. Self-examination. Reading. The 
Bible. Other useful books. 339—350 

CHAPTER XXXVI. MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE 
HUSBAND. 

Mode of female influence on the husband. Mr. Flint’s 
encomium. Examples of female influence. Wife of 




CONTENTS. 


13 


Jonathan Edwards—of Sir James Mackintosh. True 
position of woman in society. Serious error of some 
modern writers. A caution. Making haste to be 
rich. A species of mania. Its extent and evils. 
How the young wife is concerned with it. What she 
can do to remove it. Agur’s prayer—seldom used in 
modern times. Particular modes ©f female influence. 
Office seeking. How to dissuade from it. Exposures 
to intemperance. Female consistency. Female piety. 

Its effects on the husband—compared with amiable¬ 
ness and beauty. Apparent objection to the writer’s 
views. Woman’s prerogative. 361—376 













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PREFACE. 


Conversing, one day, with the author of a 
popular series of books, I told him I objected to 
his last work because it was incomplete. I ac¬ 
knowledge the fault you mention, he replied, but 
what would you have had me do ? I said all I 
knew on the subject. Would you have an author, 
for the sake of rendering his book complete, tell 
what he does not know ? 

This reply afforded me a valuable hint, and I 
resolved to profit from it. If all which authors do 
not "know were erased from their books, how many 
ponderous volumes would sink at once to the size 
of pamphlets, and how greatly would the bulk of 
nearly all be diminished ? 

It is not the object of the following work to 
give a complete view of the duties of a young 
wife. My purpose has been simply to present my 


16 


PREFACE. 


own views on a few points—such as have been 
the subjects of much observation and reflection— 
and to dwell at considerable length on them, leaving 
the rest to other writers. There is no want of the 
latter; we have more than one “ Young Wife’s 
Book ” already extant; and along with some de¬ 
fects, each of them doubtless has its excellencies. 
It is probably a transcript of the author’s mind on 
this great and important subject; and is hence 
more or less perfect according to the extent of his 
observation, and his knowledge of the nature of 
those whom he has observed. I have never read 
but one of them, however, and that only partly 
through. Whatever may be the merits or demerits 
of the following volume, it is principally original. 
For the few extracts I have made, I have given, 
in every instance, so far as I know, sufficient 
credit. 

It may also be proper to observe, in regard to 
some of the views which I have ventured to pre¬ 
sent in reference to the appropriate sphere and 
duties of woman in matrimonial life, that every 
chapter of this work was written many months 
before the appearance of certain recent publications 


PREFACE. 


17 


involving, in some respects, similar sentiments 
This statement may, it is confessed, be deemed 
unnecessary. It is soon enough, it may be thought, 
to repel the charge of plagiarism, when it has 
actually been made. And whatever may have been 
the excellencies or defects of any former volumes, 
prepared by the author, he has not as yet incurred 
the charge of following too closely in the track 
of others. 

In pursuing my subject, however, I have not 
always confined myself to the more obvious and 
generally admitted qualifications and duties which 
a new and interesting and important relation im¬ 
poses upon the young wife, but have sometimes 
treated at large on several topics which are not 
only of great importance to her as a member of 
the human family, but whose importance, trained 
as she usually is, in comparative ignorance, is 
greatly enhanced by the position she sustains to 
her husband and her other friends. In a word, I 
have endeavored to take her to be precisely what 
in the present state of things a wife is, and to give 
such advice and instruction as, in my own view, 


2 


18 


PREFACE. 


she needs for the better discharge of her varied 
duties to herself, her husband and others. 

Let me caution the reader against one mistake 
into which she may be liable to fall. In dwelling 
at length, as I sometimes do, on the duties of a 
wife, it may be thought that I impose too heavy a 
burden on her, and too little on the husband. For 
example, in speaking of the duty of submission, it 
may be supposed by some, at first view, that I 
would render man a sort of petty tyrant. But let 
it be remembered that I am not writing, in this 
volume, for the husband directly, but for the wife ; 
and that however weighty, or important, or respon¬ 
sible the duties of the former may be, those of the 
latter are by no means the less so on account 
of my silence respecting the husband. Even in 
regard to concession and submission, the fact that 
these duties, especially the former, often devolve 
on the husband as well as the wife, does not at all 
lessen the obligations of the latter. The liability 
of being misunderstood, to which I refer, is insep¬ 
arable, perhaps, from the practice of writing for 
particular classes of society; and if so, every 
author must be prepared to meet it. 


PREFACE. 


19 


1 have one more caution. If the same idea or 
truth should sometimes appear more than once, 
in the following pages, let it not be regarded as 
mere repetition, but rather as presented in a new 
light to show its aspect, bearings, or relations, as 
viewed from some other point, or considered in 
some other connection. There are no repetitions 
but what are intended, either to reiterate or illus¬ 
trate what are deemed important sentiments. 


Boston, October, 1837 . 
















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THE YOUNG WIFE 


CHAPTER I. 

GENERAL REMARKS. 

Objects of marriage. Duties of a wife. Her importance as 
an educator. Why. 

The objects of the marriage institution may all 
be comprised under two general heads. First, the 
education of the parties concerned; second, the 
education of those committed to their care. It 
will be obvious, however, that the word education, 
thus used, includes much more than mere instruc¬ 
tion in knowledge. The term is used in its largest 
sense, as implying and including everything which 
forms character for this world or the world to 
come. 

If the view I have here taken of the intention 
of marriage be correct—and I think it will be 
found to accord both with reason and revelation— 
then we see, at once, what is the leading duty 


22 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


of the young wife, considered merely as such, 
and what are the ends which she should propose. 
She is to be, in one word, “ a help-meet ” to her 
husband. She is to assist him—cooperate with 
him—in the work of self-education. The educa¬ 
tion of others, however important a duty of the 
married life it may ultimately become, belongs to 
the Young Mother rather than to the Young Wife, 
and will therefore only be made an incidental or 
occasional subject of discussion in the present 
volume. 

Every day educates us for every day which 
follows it, and indeed for every subsequent period 
of our existence, because all the various events, 
and circumstances, and employments of each day 
contribute to form the future character. Just 
in proportion, then, as the wife can modify or 
control these circumstances, events and employ¬ 
ments in her family, just in the same proportion is 
she an educator of her husband. This education 
may, indeed, be either good or bad, according to 
the spirit and manner in which it is conducted ; 
but educate at some rate or other, the wife always 
must, in all she says or does in the presence of 
others—I had almost said, in all she thinks and 
feels. She is moreover the most efficient of all the 
educators of her husband, because her influence is 
so constant It also happens that in no way can 


GENERAL REMARKS. 


23 


she so rapidly promote her own improvement, as 
in promoting that of her husband; since the light 
and influence which she sheds on him is necessa¬ 
rily reflected upon herself. 

These remarks apply with most force, it is true, 
to the young wife, as my title would indicate. But 
they are also applicable, in no small degree, to 
those who are more advanced in years. The power 
of persons, places, events and circumstances, to 
form or reform human character, is in exactly an 
inverse proportion, other things being equal, to our 
age. The younger the parties are, when they en¬ 
ter into wedlock, the more they can do, mutually, 
in the great work of self-improvement. But some¬ 
thing can be done, as long as life lasts. There is 
no age at which the work of human education 
ceases. Character is forming for the great future, 
till we pass the bounds of time and space, and 
enter a world where retribution predominates rather 
than trial—a world where character remains fixed— 
a world of universal and never ending manhood. 

Let it not be hastily supposed that I expect the 
wife to do much by means of set lessons, or in 
any of the more direct forms of what is commonly 
called education; though she is not to remain 
wholly inefficient, even in this respect, as will be 
seen in another place. But it is by conduct and 
example that she is to effect most, in the education 


24 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


of her husband. It is by indirect means—silent, 
gentle, and often unperceived, but always opera¬ 
tive. The growth of the vegetable world is not 
so much effected by the bright meridian glare of 
heaven’s resplendent luminary, and by the violent 
rain and the tempest, as by the milder light of 
morning and evening, the gentler breezes, the soft 
descending showers, and the still more softly distil¬ 
ling dew. In like manner is it the province of 
woman to accomplish most for human advance¬ 
ment, and above all in her own family, by indirect 
if not by silent efforts. She is to teach, at least 
in no small degree, as though she taught not. 
She is to perform the duties of her office, not like 
the king of day, but rather like the paler empress 
of night, in so unperceived a manner as to leave 
it doubtful whether she has any influence or not, 
except by the general law of attraction. 

Having thus stated, as briefly as possible, some 
of the principles which form the basis of this work, 
l proceed to consider, in a series of chapters, the 
various means by which the young wife is to ac¬ 
complish most successfully the purpose of her mis¬ 
sion. 


CHAPTER II 


SUBMISSION. 


A common error abroad. Real object of woman. In what 
respects she is to submit to her husband. Bible doctrine 
on this subject. Physical inferiority. Concession must 
be made. Leaving home. Anecdote of a married couple. 
Caution to the young wife. 

An opinion still prevails, even in civilized coun¬ 
tries, that woman should be little more than the 
mere instrument of her husband; that on many 
points she is not expected to have a voice; that 
she should have even no opinion ; and that her 
duty consists in submitting, without a question, to 
the dictates of her “ lord.” 

Now I am of opinion that woman is made to 
supply, in some measure, the defects in her hus¬ 
band’s character—thus making him a more per¬ 
fect man than otherwise he would be. But I hold, 
also, that the same duty is required of the husband 
toward the wife, and with the same view and end; 
and that in this respect, the husband has little, if 
indeed any superiority. I hold, moreover, that 
God has required of each party, in the married 


26 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


state, though the union be ever so close or so 
perfect, to preserve the individual character of 
each. No female has a right, were she disposed 
to do it, so to merge her own character in that of 
her husband, as to lose her own individuality. 

Still I cannot help thinking that there is a species 
of submission to the husband sometimes required 
of the wife. Not that I would ever claim it my¬ 
self, or recommend to any one else to make the 
claim. If a wife has not good sense enough 
to yield, voluntarily, what I suppose ought to be 
yielded, it is probably of little importance for the 
husband to claim anything. Perhaps I would say, 
“ That is my opinion ; you will, of course, do or 
act as you please.” 

And yet something of submission is certainly due. 
There was a time, in the history of our world, 
when woman did not exist. Man was not only 
alone—without a companion—but destitute of a 
“ help-meet ”—an assistant. In these circum¬ 
stances, almighty Power called forth, and, as it 
would seem, for this very purpose, that modified, 
and in some respects improved form of humanity, 
to which was afterwards given the name of woman, 
and presented her to man. She was to be man’s 
assistant. 

This distinction is recognized throughout the 
Bible. Man is always considered as the head of 


SUBMISSION. 


27 


the family, and woman as the helper. The man 
is not created for the woman—so the matter is 
represented—but the woman for the man. 

It is true that this does not, of necessity, imply 
an intellectual and moral inferiority on the part of 
woman. It does not preclude the idea that in 
morals she may even be the superior. The con¬ 
cession is that of physical prowess, rather than of 
moral influence. 

It is a concession, however, whose necessity 
stands as prominent in the pages of the great book 
of nature as in those of revelation. The exercise 
of that physical force which seems necessary in 
many of the arts and employments of life, is 
scarcely compatible with woman’s distinguishing 
characteristics and her peculiar prerogative, had it 
been assigned her. 

Heaven has accordingly withheld it. No form 
of education will give to woman a masculine de¬ 
velopment. No circumstances will impart to her 
muscular system, as a whole, that power which is 
so constantly developed in the other sex. Even 
in those countries, and among those tribes, where 
the ruder and coarser employments have been 
partially or wholly allotted her, she still retains the 
more striking physical traits of character which 
God in nature has assigned. They may indeed 
be modified, slightly, but never wholly overcome. 


28 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


A skilful anatomist could still distinguish the sexes, 
at any age, by a mere hasty inspection of an arm 
or a face, after the lapse of a thousand successive 
generations. 

Let me not hence be set down as an enemy to 
female athletic exercises. What muscular exercise, 
in degree, woman does demand, is demanded still 
more imperiously than in man. She needs mus¬ 
cular exercise during her growth and after maturity, 
both to develope her form, internal and external, 
and to maintain her health. But no muscular 
exercise whatever—and this is the burden of my 
present argument—will essentially and permanently 
alter her structure, to render it more masculine in 
future generations. Say what we will, therefore, 
God in nature must have imposed on her a physi¬ 
cal inferiority. She is thus obviously fitted to be 
an assistant to her husband in the work of self- 
improvement, and the improvement of others. 

Perhaps all this inquiry is utterly needless. Per¬ 
haps very few readers entertain a single doubt on 
any one of these points. But it was necessary to 
make the statement, preliminary to what follows in 
other chapters. 

Indeed, in one point, the agitation of this ques¬ 
tion would certainly seem needless. Matrimony 
cannot exist, without concession on both sides. 
Each party gives up certain natural rights, for the 


SUBMISSION. 


29 


sake of certain privileges to be acquired. On 
which side lies the balance of concession, we need 
not inquire; it is sufficient if it is shown that it 
must be made, and that matrimony cannot exist 
without it. 

I say, then, that the very act of entering into 
the married state is, on the part of the woman, a 
concession. It matters little whether this fact is 
recognized in the external forms of celebrating this 
rite or not; it is essential to, and inherent in its 
nature. 

Leaving home, as a general rule, involves con¬ 
cession and submission. What female ever quits 
the circle in which she is brought up, in the expec¬ 
tation of retaining every privilege and every right 
to which she has been accustomed? Does she 
not, on the contrary, even diminish her own per¬ 
sonal enjoyment? 

In addition to the physical comforts of which 
she voluntarily deprives herself, does she not sub¬ 
ject herself to numerous cares, and responsibilities, 
and trials ? Does she not submit, at least pros¬ 
pectively, to a long train of circumstances and 
consequences which, in her father’s house, she 
would be able to escape? Does she not even 
merge her own name in that of her husband? 
And is there no concession in all this ? Is there 
no submission ? 


30 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


How much soever of his own natural rights the 
husband is required to yield, the concessions of the 
wife are still more numerous, and justify the inevi¬ 
table conclusion that matrimony involves, as a 
matter of the plainest necessity, not only a greater 
degree of dependence on her part, but also a spe¬ 
cies of inferiority. 

Let me here say again, that I would be the last 
person in the world to justify a tyrannical assump¬ 
tion of superiority on the part of our own sex. 
Let nothing be claimed by man, except what the 
necessity of the circumstances requires; and let 
even this be done in the most gentle manner. But 
if reason, nature and revelation unite in affirming 
that the balance of concession does actually de¬ 
volve on woman, it is proper to say so. I may 
also add, that the more cheerful and voluntary the 
submission, the happier the results. 

This was the conclusion of a newly married 
couple, among my own acquaintance. Each re¬ 
spected the rights of the other, but both saw how 
much more numerous the points were in which 
woman was required to yield ; and both saw, too, 
the necessity of an umpire, in certain cases. It 
was therefore mutually agreed that it belonged to 
the husband to decide, in all matters of dispute. 
This point, once settled, has never, thus far, been 
questioned by either party. 


SUBMISSION. 


31 


But besides the numerous general concessions 
which a well regulated matrimonial state requires 
of the wife, and which, from its very nature, it 
involves, she is called to a series of smaller con¬ 
cessions, on which depend, much more than on all 
else, her comfort and happiness. 

No woman can suppose herself perfect in opin¬ 
ions, habits or manners. But whether hers are 
right or wrong, she finds them daily, and perhaps 
hourly conflicting with those of her husband. He 
has been trained differently from herself. He has 
been accustomed to view things through a medium 
somewhat different. He is more ignorant on many 
points than she; and it unfortunately happens 
that when a difference of opinion arises among 
mankind—and between husband and wife, no less 
than elsewhere—those who are most ignorant will 
usually be most positive, and most tenacious of 
their sentiments. 

He is often more tenacious of habits and man¬ 
ners than of opinions ; and especially of small 
habits. But what shall be done ? Shall she set 
herself firmly against every habit which she has 
reason to believe is not the very best ? Shall she 
not rather, for the sake of peace, often concede or 
yield a point, at least for the time ? 

Perhaps there is no one thing on which domestic 
happiness so much depends as this; here, too, as in 


32 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the matters already mentioned, the balance of con¬ 
cession devolves on the wife. Whether the hus¬ 
band concede or not, she must. If she insists too 
long or too strenuously for what she deems to be 
truth or right in small matters, she does it at the 
expense of her own comfort and peace. I do not 
say that she must express her assent to what she 
does not believe; but I do say that she must not 
dispute too long about it. She must endeavor to 
waive the whole subject. By contending, she will 
probably gain nothing, but only confirm him in his 
habits or opinions. By a temporary concession, 
that is, by suspending the question, she may possi¬ 
bly lead him to reflect farther, and to change his 
views or conduct. 

So valuable is the disposition to make temporary 
concessions in matters of opinion or habit, that 
an aged friend of mine, in giving directions in 
reference to matrimony prior to marriage, repre¬ 
sented the whole question of domestic happiness 
or misery as turning upon this single point. After 
giving the reasons for her opinions, she concluded 
by observing—•“ If you are both wise in this respect, 
you cannot but be prosperous and happy.” 


CHAPTER III. 


KINDNESS. 

Effects of kindness on brute animals—on savages—on chil¬ 
dren. Case of a father. Effects of kindness on servants 
and slaves—on a husband. Opinion of Solomon. A 
new era. Its results to woman. Counsel. Beautiful ex¬ 
tracts. 

Constant and unremitted kindness is irresistible. 
I say this with the more confidence, from the 
effect which experience has shown that it has on 
the insane and the idiotic, and even on beasts. I 
do not believe there is an animal on earth that can 
wholly resist its influence. 

I have watched the effects of kindness on the 
noble horse, the patient ox, the domestic cat and 
dog, and even the grovelling pig. I have read of 
its effects on the elephant, the camel, the lama, 
and indeed on almost every known animal—even 
tne fierce lion, and the savage hyena ; and I have 
usually found those effects obvious. The best 
domestic animals I have ever seen were reared by 
kind and merciful masters ; the worst by those of 
a contrary disposition. 

3 


34 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Kindness to an animal, and even to men, may 
not, it is true, always change, at once, habits or 
character. Our kindness to a savage will not, of 
necessity, render him civilized;—it may, indeed, 
leave him as much of a savage as he was before. 
But it will, at the least, increase his love for us, 
and his confidence in us, so that the more appro¬ 
priate or more efficient means of changing or me¬ 
liorating his condition can be successfully applied. 
Kindness, though it should overcome the criminal, 
may not reform him ; but it will almost inevitably 
place him in a condition in which other means for 
his reformation can be applied. 

Nothing secures the love and confidence of chil¬ 
dren like unremitted kindness. Do what else you 
will to them, if the general tenor of your life indi¬ 
cate a kind heart and kind feelings towards them, 
you are sure of their affection, and may lead them 
almost whithersoever you will. 

I know a father who is sometimes fretful and 
peevish; and I have occasionally seen him in a 
rage. When he is so, his whole family feel the 
effects of it; sometimes—all but the wife—in 
blows. Yet this is not the general tenor of his 
life. He is, for the most part, the kind husband, 
and the tender and affectionate father. His peri¬ 
ods of fretfulness or rage are but as the occasional 
storm in a land of serenity and sunshine; and are 


KINDNESS. 


35 


regarded as such by the family. They dread them, 
indeed, and sometimes endeavor to shelter them¬ 
selves from their effects; but they know the storm 
will soon be over. 

Now these moral storms are far from being as 
salutary as the physical storm;—nay, they are in 
themselves a most serious evil. But they are far 
from being the worst evil that could befall a family. 
I honestly believe that an occasional fit of rage 
does less mischief than a settled gloom; just as an 
occasional storm injures vegetation less than to 
have the sun constantly obscured. In the case I 
have just mentioned, the wife is on the whole 
happy, and the children very affectionate and 
tolerably well educated, notwithstanding the fa¬ 
ther’s occasional sallies. 

The master, too, seldom fails to discover the 
effect of kindness on his servant or slave, and to 
govern himself accordingly. I have known an 
instance of such severity in a slaveholder towards 
favorite slaves, as I thought at the time could not 
fail wholly to estrange their hearts from him. And 
vet they loved him scarcely the less for it, because 
it was rather an occasional thing, and not in keep¬ 
ing with the general tenor of his conduct. 

But if these are the effects of remitted kind¬ 
ness—if not only savage men but fierce animals 
are susceptible of its influence—if, in one word, its 


36 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


influence is irresistible—then how important it is 
that it should be constantly brought to bear, in a 
relation of all others the nearest and most tender ! 
If the occasional violence of man does not wholly 
destroy its legitimate tendency, what happy results 
would not follow its uninterrupted influence on the 
part of woman, in married life ! 

There can be no room for doubt on this subject. 
There is reason to believe that the simple exercise 
of kindness, in the most intimate and unremitted 
relations of matrimonial life, would do more to 
promote domestic bliss than the wisest have ever 
yet supposed. The husband can, in this respect, 
do much ; but the wife can do more—much more. 
Can there be a doubt that what is so important to 
domestic happiness, and through that, so promotive 
of the general good, is demanded ? May it not be 
here assumed that kindness, next to concession, is 
the first and most imperative of the young wife’s 
duties ? 

Solomon, in his description of a virtuous wife, 
couples kindness with wisdom, and considers his 
picture incomplete without it. “ She openeth her 
mouth with wisdom,” says he ; but as if this were 
not enough, he immediately adds, “and in her 
tongue is the law of kindness.” 

The time has been, in the history of our world, 
when it was governed chiefly by physical force. 


KINDNESS. 


3 ? 


But a new order of things is coming about, and 
men are beginning to be controlled by a moral 
influence. It is scarcely necessary to say that 
whatever may have been or may continue to be 
hereafter the sub-agents in effecting this great 
revolution, the great and principal agent is Chris¬ 
tianity. 

While the world was ruled by physical force, 
and woman—and even the wife—was regarded as 
only a better sort of menial, human improvement 
was slow. It was so, especially, because so little 
was done in the family—the great cradle of char¬ 
acter. Yet there was something done, even here; 
and whatever was achieved of human melioration 
seemed to be the effect of maternal love. 

It was reserved, however, for a new era—one 
upon which we are now entering—to show the 
silent power which woman has in governing the 
world. Her influence is just now beginning to be 
felt. The nations, instead of being controlled by 
fear, are ere long to be controlled by the law 
of love and kindness. In this change—revolution 
I have called it—woman is to perform a most im¬ 
portant, if not the principal part. She is to wield 
the sceptre, first over her husband, and next over 
the children whom God may give her. 

Let her understand, then, fully, the efficacy 
of kindness, in enabling her to fulfil her duty and 


38 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


destiny. Let her be particularly careful to be 
kind in the smaller matters. It is no hard task to 
maintain kind feelings amid the great concerns 
of life, and while we are nerved and braced for 
the work. It is no difficult task to preserve the 
occasional look and tone and word and action 
of kindness and love ; but to preserve our souls, 
as we ought, when entirely off our guard, at home, 
in the domestic circle, and to do this always, is not 
so easy a matter. And yet this is precisely what 
is most necessary to be done. It is in vain, or 
almost in vain, to hope for any signal amelioration 
of our race, through family influence, till this point 
is secured—till woman’s life, amid her household, 
is one uninterrupted series of kind actions, words, 
tones and gestures, and till she has overcome and 
transformed her husband. This is one peculiai 
and pressing duty of the young wife ; and it is a 
duty which ought in no circumstances to be over¬ 
looked or disregarded. 

This kindness must extend even to what are 
called little things. Mrs. Sprout, in her “ Family 
Lectures,” has the following highly interesting 
remarks on this subject: 

r A great portion of the misery which has so 
ofterTembittered married life, I am persuaded has 
originated in the neglect of trifles. Connubial 
happiness is a thing of too fine a texture to be 


KINDNESS. 


39 


handled roughly. It is a plant which will not 
even bear the touch of unkindness—a delicate 
flower, which indifference will chill, and suspicion 
blast. It must be watered with the showers of 
attention, and guarded with the impregnable bar¬ 
rier of unshaken confidence. In this way, it will 
bloom with fragrance in every season of li fe, a nd 
sweeten even the loneliness of declining years.”; 

I am not over-fond of quotations, however apro¬ 
pos ; but since I have begun to quote, allow me 
to finish this chapter with a few excellent things 
which I have found in the course of my reading on 
this subject. 

In the “ Whisper to a Newly Married Pair,” I 
find the following paragraph. It is, to say the 
least, worth reading once : 

“ I repeat, it is amazing how trifles—the most 
insignificant trifles—even a word, even a look— 
yes, truly, a look, a glance—completely possess 
the power, at times, of either pleasing or displeas¬ 
ing. Let this sink deep into your mind ; remem¬ 
ber that to endeavor to keep a husband in constant 
good humor is one of the first duties of a wife.” 

“Our lives,” says an intelligent writer, “are 
made up of little things. If the neglect of little 
duties is a source of unhappiness, they at once lose 
their insignificancy. If little peculiarities of man¬ 
ner, of expression or habit, are annoying, they are 


40 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


of sufficient importance to claim the attention, and 
demand the amendment of every well-inclined in¬ 
dividual. 

“Many a well-meaning wife may trace the 
coldness and estrangement of her husband to some 
trifling cause. If a husband, for example, says, 
c Do n’t put your feet upon the grate,’ the subject 
is of sufficient importance to induce you to guard 
against a repetition. His taste is annoyed by the 
least inelegance of attitude. 

“ But it is not errors like these—errors observed, 
perhaps, only by the extremely refined—to which 
I would particularly advert; it is the disregard oi 
that inestimable rule—‘Do as you wish to be 
done by ’—a rule applicable to every situation of 
every individual, capable of being applied to the 
greatest and most momentous subjects, as well as 
to the most simple affairs of household propriety— 
a rule comprising within itself a motive for action, 
which, if it were universally observed, would su¬ 
persede the necessity of legislation, and banish 
unhappiness from the world. This simple yet 
important rule is of itself sufficient to establish the 
divine character of him who uttered it. He or 
she who wantonly disregards this divine rule, even 
in little things, is sapping the very foundation of 
domestic happiness.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


CHEERFULNESS. 

Influence of cheerfulness. Opinion of the Journal of Health. 
Dr. Salgues’ opinion. Interesting anecdote. Evils of a 
want of cheerfulness. Story of Alexis and Emilia. Re¬ 
flections. 

The young wife also owes it to her husband 
and to the world, to be cheerful. She is seldom 
aware of the amazing importance of this quality 
to her own happiness, as well as to that of 
others. 

In the second volume of the Journal of Health, 
there is an extended essay on the importance 
of cheerfulness to health and longevity. Nor is it 
a solitary instance. Many writers, both in morals 
and medicine, have dwelt, at considerable length, 
on its favorable tendency on our every-day happi¬ 
ness. 

Dr. Salgues, professor to the Institute of France, 
has the following excellent remarks on the impor¬ 
tance of what he calls gaiety, but which answers 
exactly to what we call cheerfulness:—“It is,” 
says he, “the best preservative against anxiety 


42 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


and grief; it is the golden panacea, the secret of 
longevity, the elixir of life.” And in another 
place, he adds, “ Joy and gaiety give activity to 
transpiration, render digestion easier and better, 
sleep more regular and refreshing, the cure of sick¬ 
ness easier, the period of convalescence shorter, 
and life itself longer.” 

This is the importance of cheerfulness in gene¬ 
ral. But its peculiar importance to the wife can 
best be seen by observing those families where it 
is wanting. Unhappily, they are so numerous that 
we need not go very far for the purpose. 

I recollect most distinctly a family of this pain¬ 
ful description, not a hundred miles from the place 
of my nativity. 

It was a small family, in moderate, though not 
affluent circumstances, and surrounded by most of 
those externals which are calculated to make life 
delightful. Yet cheerfulness was only an occa¬ 
sional visitor there—seldom or never an inmate. 

The father labored like a galley slave, to amass 
property, and almost always came home from his 
labor fatigued and dejected ; never smiling or 
happy. The mother, bom, as it seemed, to per¬ 
petual sullenness and gloom, did nothing, of course, 
to cheer his spirits. Not a sprightly word or 
cheering look was ever transmitted from the one 
to the other, except on extraordinary occasions, as 


CHEERFULNESS. 


43 


on the arrival of some friendly visitor. More than 
this, the countenance of the mother usually wore a 
frown, even in her happiest moments. 

In this sad condition things went on for many 
years. A family of three children were in the 
mean time rising to maturity, and their character, 
for time and for eternity, forming under such woful 
influences. They were at length fairly on the 
stage of life, and actors in life’s busy scenes. 
And what were their tempers and dispositions ? 
Two of them are far from being cheerful or happy. 
Nor were they happy in their youth ; for they 
were often melancholic in the midst of the gayest 
companions. Some of them already have rising 
families of their own, among whom they are 
spreading, by gloomy countenances, the same un¬ 
happy influences to which themselves, in early life, 
had been subjected. 

In my youth I had occasion to spend a few 
days in the cheerless family of which I have been 
speaking. As I was a mere boy, there was proba¬ 
bly no effort to appear differently from what was 
usual in the family; and therefore I had a fine 
opportunity to see things as they were. 

I believe I was in the family four days. Yet 
during this whole time, I never heard a pleasant 
voice, or saw a kind countenance or a friendly 
smile, except in a single instance. The father was 


44 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


dejected ; the mother was irritable ; the daughters 
were peevish and gloomy; the son was discon¬ 
tented and unhappy. 

There were no cords of love and union there. 
The father never sat down, in the midst of a happy 
family, nor formed the hero of a circle around the 
fireside. If he had a moment’s leisure, he was at 
the “ store,” or the “ comer,” in the midst of other 
and sometimes more unfavorable influences. 

Now when I reflect upon the circumstances of 
this group of relatives—for I will not call it a 
family—I feel a good degree of confidence that 
maternal kindness would have prevented all this. 
Not through the medium of occasional smiles or 
acts of kindness, but by an uninterrupted series 
of those looks and acts that make their impression 
on the heart, and imperceptibly, though effectually, 
win it. 

Abbott, in his “ Path of Peace,” describes this 
state of things as if he too, like myself, had been 
an eye witness to it. Speaking of the want of 
cheerfulness, and its sad effects on the husband, 
he thus observes: 

“ When, wearied and excited by the harassments 
of the day, your husband has returned to his home, 
he has not been met with a smile of welcome, and 
a placid heart. The parlor is in a clutter, the 
children are neglected, his wife is fretful. Love, 


CHEERFULNESS. 


45 


even the most pure and the most fervent, cannot 
long survive such encounters. The tavern-keeper 
will hid him welcome. He will have the little 
snug parlor, for the whist party, neat and in order, 
and his associates will be careful to avoid offence. 
They will greet him with the open hand and the 
smiling brow. Is it strange, that a man who is not 
governed by Christian principle, should, under such 
circumstances, forget his wife and forsake his home ? 
Is it strange, that he should live with those who 
are careful to minister to his pleasures ? ” 

He also gives the following excellent advice : 

“ Cultivate a cheerful spirit. Cheerfulness is 
the twin sister of gratitude. They are bom to¬ 
gether. They walk hand in hand through life, 
and the death of the one breaks the heart of the 
other. Gratitude is the homage which the heart 
gives to God for his goodness. Cheerfulness is 
the external manifestation of this praise.” 

I have said that the importance of cheerfulness 
in a wife could best be shown, by exhibiting the 
evils which flow from a want of it. But it may 
also be shown by examples of the contrary de¬ 
scription. I will present one. 

Alexis is a day laborer. He was originally in¬ 
dolent ; but the wants of a family, beginning to be 
felt, have aroused him. He now labors inces¬ 
santly, and labors hard. 


46 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


In all his efforts, he is seconded and sustained 
by his wife. It is true she was a little disappointed 
in her expectations in regard to his circumstances. 
As he was the son of a wealthy farmer, she thought 
he would receive that aid from his father which 
would at least render their circumstances comforta¬ 
ble. But no: the old gripus withholds his aid, to 
a dollar. He will not lift a finger to encourage. 
“ Let him put his own shoulder to the wheel, and 
then call for Hercules.”—I like the principle very 
well, but I should like it also if the old man was 
sincere in his application of it—if it were not a mere 
excuse for retaining, at its full size, his own heap. 

But as I have already intimated, Emilia, though 
a little disappointed, is not discouraged. She 
makes the best of things as they are. She is doing 
her utmost. And she is doing very much. She 
has indeed already done much. She has led 
Alexis into habits of industry, already ; she is now 
leading him to other virtues, and to happiness. 

And how is she doing it ? Not by wise words, 
in the form of direct instruction ;—not by her sage 
counsels ;—not even by her example, alone. What 
then ? It is by her never-tiring cheerfulness ; or 
at least chiefly so. 

How is this cheerfulness shown or manifested ? 
To answer this question fully would be to give the 
whole history of a day. I need only say that her 


CHEERFULNESS. 


47 


countenance always wears a smile, an unaffected 
one, too, when she meets him ; and that her every 
word or action corresponds to the feelings indi¬ 
cated by her countenance. Everything she says 
or does in his presence warms his heart, and in¬ 
spires hope. And to inspire hope is to reform and 
to make happy. 

Above all, does she perform her angelic task by 
the reception she gives him at evening. When 
he comes home, as often happens, after dark, he 
finds not only the lighted window and the blazing 
hearth, but the still more cheering light of his wife’s 
countenance, to welcome him. 

He can scarcely feel a want of food, drink or 
repose, which is not fully anticipated, and for 
which provision is not made in the most happy 
manner. Who that is perpetually cheered by 
those whom he tenderly loves, can help being 
cheerful ? Who can help smiling, that is con¬ 
stantly smiled upon ? Who can avoid being happy, 
where nought exists but happiness ? 

Had Alexis married any other than Emilia, or 
a person who, like her, sympathized deeply with 
him, and had she proved a very angel to him in 
every other respect, it is doubtful whether he 
would ever have made the industrious man he now 
is. Nay, more; there is every reason to believe 
he would have gone “ down hill ” with a velocity 


48 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


far greater than that with which he is now moving 
upwards. 

Emilia has saved him. She has led him, through 
a kind and merciful providence, into the right way. 
His path, if it be not that of the just, in the scrip¬ 
ture sense of the phrase, is at least like it; and is 
probably destined, like it, to shine brighter and 
brighter unto the perfect day. 



CHAPTER V. 

CONFIDENCE. 


Duty of confidence. Married women not always wives. 
Confiding in gossips. Fault in education. A bad husband 
not to be given up. Experiment in trusting. We should 
have but few secrets. 

It may seem idle to suggest to a wife the duty 
of confiding in her husband. She has evinced her 
confidence in him, it will be said, by marrying him. 
Has she not entrusted him with everything dear to 
her this side of the grave, excepting perhaps the 
destiny of her immortal spirit? And shall she 
now be advised to put confidence in him ? 

But as there are those who bear the name, who 
are not husbands, so there are to be found married 
women who are not wives. They have not entire 
confidence in their husbands, after all. They only 
confide in them in part. They trust them to a 
certain extent. Still there is a string of secrets 
behind, which they dare not communicate, even 
to them. 

I will not say that a wife should bury nothing 
in her own breast. I will not say that things 
4 


50 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


may not transpire, both before and after marriage, 
which it were better to lock up in one’s own bosom 
forever. It may be even so. It probably is so. 
But I do say that if a married lady has a bosom 
friend at all—if she confides her inmost secrets to 
any one—it should be to her husband. She has 
no right to trust some secret-loving gossip with that 
which she dares not, for her very life, confide to 
her husband. 

Do you say that some husbands are not worthy 
t)f being confided in, or trusted ? I know they are 
not, and it is a most unhappy circumstance ; and 
if your husband is of this description, I pity you. 
But what is to be done ? You have married him, 
and you cannot go back. You have made him 
your husband ; ought you not now to treat him as 
such ? 

Let me observe that there is a fault here, in 
our system of early education. Children are not 
taught to be trusted. There is no way of render¬ 
ing people worthy of being confided in, or trusted, 
but by reposing confidence in them. The work 
should be commenced early. Let a child be early 
taught to keep a secret. Repose confidence in 
him, again and again, till you make him worthy 
of your confidence. 

Were this advice followed, we should not find 
so many persons laying claim to the sacred names 


CONFIDENCE. 


51 


of husband and wife, who are yet unwilling to 
keep a secret, and unworthy of confidence. We 
should not find the wife so often telling Mrs. A. 
B. something which she would not, for the world, 
tell her own husband. 

But taking a husband, too, of the worst stamp, 
in this respect, I do think he ought not to be 
deemed irreclaimable. I shall hereafter insist on 
it, as a sacred and important duty of the wife, 
to improve his character physically, intellectually, 
socially, morally and religiously. All I have to say 
on this point here is, that it will be one important 
item in this great work, to teach him to be worthy 
of her confidence. 

There is a tendency in our natures to become 
what we are taken to be. Take your husband to 
be worthy of being trusted, and commit a secret or 
something else to his keeping. Let it be, if possi¬ 
ble, of such a character or nature that it will be 
for his own interest, no less than yours, that it 
should be kept, and that it will, if he communicates 
it, bring upon him suffering. 

Let the trust be repeated, whether he violates it 
or not. I do not undertake to say to what extent 
this confidence should at first be carried ; but I do 
feel sure that the work should in all cases be com¬ 
menced, and that it would generally be successful. 
Perhaps the husband would at first be guilty of a 


52 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


betrayal or two; but he would probably soon 
learn better. 

For my own part, I would never have many 
secrets which I wished to communicate. The 
fewer we have the better. But when we have 
something which we wish to communicate, it is a 
painful condition to be unwilling or afraid to com¬ 
mit it to our dearest friend. I know not what 
those husbands think who violate confidence, and 
render themselves unworthy of being trusted with 
a secret; but I certainly do not envy them the 
pleasure they feel in doing so. I should much 
rather be the sufferer. I should prefer, by far, 
to be occasionally betrayed, than never to trust. 
This living on guard—this standing sentry over 
our tongues, for fear some enemy should pass, or 
for fear an enemy should gain some advantage—is 
to be abhorred. A due degree of caution, in all we 
say or do, is right; and is right even in married 
life. But I say again, that were I a young wife, 
I would prefer a little suffering to that over-caution 
which deprives us of half that happiness without 
which life is scarcely worth possessing. 


CHAPTER VI. 


SYMPATHY. 

Scripture doctrine. Miss Edgeworth’s opinion. Dr. Rush’s 
Effects of sympathy. Disposition to vex each other A 
caution. Sympathy the first step to improvement. 

It is no less the command of reason than of 
revelation, to “rejoice with those who rejoice.” 
and to “ weep with those who weep; ” or in other 
words, to sympathize with our fellow beings. 

If, as Mrs. Edgeworth says, a being destitute of 
sympathy would be incapable of exercising com¬ 
passion, friendship, benevolence, or any social feel¬ 
ing whatever, and would consequently be incapa¬ 
ble of all intercourse with society, how deeply 
unfortunate must be the condition of a married 
couple, both of whom were in this condition ! Nor 
would their condition be much improved, were 
the husband what he ought to be, while the wife 
remained unmoved, unsympathizing and unsocial. 

Dr. Rush seems to have taken it for granted 
that most married people do sympathize deeply 
with each other; else how could he have made 


54 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the conclusion—premature as we may deem it to 
be—that not only the habits and manners, but 
even the features of married people gradually 
approach ? This certainly never would happen 
without the existence of deep and strong sympa¬ 
thy. But I think that even Dr. Rush himself 
must have met with many exceptions to the truth' 
of his remark. 

I suppose, indeed, that there is scarcely a being 
on earth who is utterly incapable of being affected 
more or less by others. Probably no two persons 
can be in each other’s society for half an hour, 
and be active in conversation or otherwise, without 
catching something, if I may so express the idea. 

Yet this sympathetic influence may not always be 
favorable. A person—even a wife—who should 
be governed by sympathy alone, would necessarily 
be affected by the bad as well as the good passions 
of others. Blindly obedient to this sentiment, she 
must feel resentment, anger, jealousy, and other 
evil passions, as well as those of a contrary kind. 

But it is not this for which I am contending. 
A person all sympathy, or with his sympathy 
blinded, would be a greater evil in the world, and 
in particular to those about him, than one who 
was wholly destitute of such a feeling. I am only 
insisting on its due place among other affections, 
and especially in that relation which is the most 


SYMPATHY. 


55 


endearing of all others merely human—the relation 
of husband and wife. I insist on it, too, not in 
any small or stinted measure, but in an eminent 
degree. I insist—strongly, too—that without it, 
matrimony would not be worth anything; while 
its existence would atone for the want of almost 
everything else. 

I insist, moreover, on the necessity of cultivating 
this feeling, especially on the part of the wife. 
Everything, in this respect—or almost everything— 
will depend on her. If she wishes her husband to 
sympathize with her joys and sorrows, she must 
first sympathize with his. I do not say that she 
will always succeed to the utmost of her expecta¬ 
tions ; but I do say, as I have already said, that 
her efforts cannot be lost. It is not in human 
nature wholly to resist this influence. 

Do you expect her, I shall probably be asked, 
to feign an interest which she does not feel ? By 
no means. But I would have her feel an interest. 
I consider it as her duty to do so. Her marriage 
vows implied, or should have implied it. By her 
union with her husband—by becoming bone of his 
bone and flesh of his flesh, according to the divine 
intention—she promised to follow his destiny—to 
rejoice when he should rejoice, and to weep when 
he should weep. My only request is, that this 
promise be fulfilled. 


56 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


In order to do this, she has but to follow nature 
Were not the indications of nature opposed and 
thwarted by intention, I cannot help thinking that 
there would be, in respect to sympathy, a gradual 
approximation to each other, from the day of mar¬ 
riage to the day of death. 

This may seem a strange assertion ; and not a 
few may think it uncharitable. But I have never 
known an instance where there was any want of 
a proper sympathy between husband and wife, 
that did not originate chiefly in direct opposition 
to nature’s intentions and indications. 

There are persons—and some of them are wives, 
too—who are sure to be always opposed to those 
around them. If others are sorrowful or melan¬ 
choly, they will, for the very reason, be the con¬ 
trary. If others are grieved, they will be light or 
trifling; if others are under the influence of any 
unhappy passion whatever, they will be sure, for 
this very reason, to assume the opposite. They 
seem to do it, often, for the sake of doing it. 
They seem to take a diabolical delight in vexing a 
fellow creature; and the closer the attachment, 
the more will they indulge themselves in this repre¬ 
hensible practice. 

I have seen many wives—yes, many—who 
loved to vex, slightly, their husbands. I have 
seen a still greater number who seemed to delight 


SYMPATHY. 


57 


in’ showing themselves superior to sympathy;— 
persons, too, who are among the first to seek the 
sympathy of others ; and who, while they are 
willing to give their dearest friend mental suffering, 
would not, on any account, be the means, directly 
or indirectly, of giving pain to their bodies. 

These individuals ought to consider, first, whether 
mental suffering is not as difficult to be borne as 
bodily ; and secondly, whether in demanding sym¬ 
pathy of others, they ought not to grant it cheerfully 
themselves. There is a rule to be found in the 
greatest of books, like the following—“ All things 
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, 
do ye even so to them.” I would recommend 
this rule to those young wives who hold their heads 
too high ; who do not readily joy in the joys and 
sorrow in the sorrows of their husbands. 

You will say, perhaps, you do not, and you 
never can view things as your husband does ; and 
how then can you sympathize with him ? I have 
spoken of the necessity of cultivating feelings of 
sympathy with him. You must enter more deeply 
than ever yet you have done into his feelings, 
plans and purposes. Such as you do not approve, 
you will, of course, endeavor, in an appropriate 
manner, to change. Should you not succeed, youi 
labor will not be lost. You will at least have 
learned, more deeply than ever before, his charac- 


58 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


ter, and will have enlisted, unawares, your sympa¬ 
thies, even in what you do not like or approve. 

It is in vain to hope, that your husband’s efforts 
will enkindle that interest or sympathy of which I 
have been speaking; for this cannot be expected. 
It is most in accordance with the laws of human 
nature, that each should kindle the fire within for 
himself. At least, it is true that each for himself 
must first put to the wheel his own shoulder. 

In speaking hereafter of the duty of making 
special exertion for the improvement of your hus¬ 
band’s mind and heart, I shall have occasion once 
more to advert to this subject. For in no way 
can you lead him along the ascent which you 
wish, till you have first taught his heart to beat 
and his feelings to vibrate, as it were, with yours; 
and he will never, in this way, sympathize with 
you, till you have first sympathized with him. 
But when all this is accomplished—when your 
souls seem to be but one, and your joys and sor¬ 
rows commingle, then nothing but time can limit 
the progress he may make, or the heights and 
depths to which you may carry him, in knowledge 
and excellence. 


CHAPTER VII. 


FRIENDSHIP. 


Few real friends. Parents not always true friends to chil¬ 
dren. Anecdote. Stormy period of life. Necessity of a 
friend. Arrangement of Providence. Woman sent as 
the friend of man. Wives the truest friends. Four quali¬ 
fications for this office. Religion considered. Enemies 
sometimes friends. 

% 

It is not a little strange, that those who are 
most interested in our welfare should often be the 
least successful in promoting our happiness; but 
so it is. The cause, however, when we once ex¬ 
amine the case to the bottom, is quite obvious. 
The truth is, that our parents and other near rela¬ 
tives are apt, by the injudicious exercise of kind¬ 
ness, or rather by over-kindness, to defeat their 
own intentions. 

So common are the instances of injury from 
over-kindness, that one distinguished writer asserts, 
as the result of extensive observation, that orphans 
make their way best in the world. However this 
may be—and I am not sure but it may be true, 
in regard to those whose sole object of pursuit is 


60 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


wealth—nothing is more certain than that they 
who suppose themselves our best friends, sometimes 
judge and practice so erroneously, as to justify the 
remark that our best friends are not unfrequently 
our worst enemies. 

Few things are more to be regretted than that 
parents, who know most in regard to the character 
of their own children, should strive to palliate or 
conceal their faults, instead of correcting them. 
Let this be done by whom it may, it is not the 
part of true but of mistaken friendship ; and in so 
far as it is done by the parent, that parent ought 
not, in strict truth, to be considered as the friend 
of his children. 

I know this is a bold position. I know it will 
be startling to many to hear that parents are not 
always the friends of their children. But is it not 
true ? And if true, is it not a truth that must be 
told ? I might say that which would be still more 
startling. I might say that very few parents are 
the true friends of their children. 

One of my acquaintance, a young man of much 
worth and of a good family, has often told me that 
he never knew what it was to have a friend, till he 
was thirty years of age. He had indeed many 
relatives, and they supposed themselves his friends, 
but he says they seldom or never acted the truly 
friendly part. Except in a few instances, while 


FRIENDSHIP. 


61 


he was a mere child, in which he rendered himself 
inconvenient to his parents by his misconduct, he 
assures me that they seldom reminded him of his 
errors, or labored to improve his temper, his man¬ 
ners, or his habits. Especially did they avoid, as 
by a secret plot, telling him of any fault which 
would be likely to give him pain. While they 
should have been correcting his errors, they were 
praising him for his excellencies; and thus, instead 
of improving his character, they took the sure 
course to injure it. 

The reason why I have gone to such an extent 
of illustration, in a book for young wives, will soon 
be seen. If parents are not the friends of their 
children, who will be ? Even if they are what 
they should be, they cannot always remain so. 
There is a period in human life, when children 
cease to be controlled much by parents ; and in 
our day, this period arrives very early. The 
forms of parental restraint may indeed remain, but 
not the reality. Boys, especially, are scarcely 
fourteen or fifteen years old, before they begin to 
think themselves too old to obey. 

This feeling, I say, exists, to a greater or less 
extent, in the best educated families. It is con¬ 
nected with a peculiar state of the body and of the 
passions. It is the stormy period of life. It is the 
period in which, of all others, parental friendship 


62 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


is most needed, by both sexes. It is,. I say, life’s 
stormy period; and destitute, as many are, of 
friends in the truest sense, no wonder shipwreck is 
often made. The wonder is that it does not occur 
much more frequently. 

But the danger is much greater, when those 
whom God intended to be our friends have never 
discharged that duty—when they have flattered 
our vanity, and palliated our errors, and taken just 
such a course throughout as would be approved by 
a decided enemy of human happiness. 

Here, in this state of peril, on the sea of human 
life, divine Providence sends a messenger for our 
rescue, in the form of a female friend. If we have 
had friends before—if our relatives have been true 
friends—she is a special blessing of Heaven ; but 
if not, she is more than any common blessing— 
she is an angel of mercy. 

I say she is sent. By this I mean that such is 
the divine arrangement, that just at the very mo¬ 
ment when there is a tendency in our sex to break 
away friendless from all restraint, and to plunge 
headlong perhaps into thick dangers, seen and 
unseen, an affection is wont to spring up in us, 
which holds us back, and often saves us ; and 
which, would prove, were early marriages esteemed 
as sacred as they ought to be, the means of saving 
the greater part of our sex. 


FRIENDSHIP. 


63 


Thus, then, we come to the conclusion with 
which I wished to begin this chapter, that woman 
is designed as the friend of man ; and that she 
alone acts up to the dignity of her sex and the 
intention of the great Creator, who makes it a 
prominent object, during her matrimonial life, to 
exercise true friendship for her husband. 

When she has fulfilled, as she ought, this part 
of her mission, then she has done a great and 
important work. Whether friendship has nevei 
before been known, or whether it has been prof¬ 
fered and slighted, the result is nearly the same. 
She will, if wise, still prove the means, under God, 
of effecting a great and salutary change in the 
whole character. I will not say that this will 
always be the inevitable result; but I am of opin¬ 
ion that it would usually be so. I will not say 
that a believing wife, who is a true friend to her 
unbelieving husband, would always be the means 
of saving his soul; but I have no doubt that this 
would often be the result. 

I can hardly use language strong enough to 
convey my sense of the importance of true friend¬ 
ship on the part of the young wife. The follow¬ 
ing are some of the advantages which she possesses 
for this exercise: 

1. She has the confidence of her husband; or 
at least it is fair to suppose so. 


64 


THE YOUNG WIFE 


2. She has a better opportunity than any other 
person in the world—parents, brothers and sisters 
not excepted—to detect his faults, errors and fol¬ 
lies. 

3. She can better choose her time for advising 
him than any other person, since she is so con¬ 
stantly with him. 

4. She is more deeply concerned in the results, 
since her own reputation and happiness are bound 
up in his ; and hence her motives are stronger to 
discharge friendly offices. 

Let nothing which I have said be construed 
into an approbation of marriage at an age which is 
wholly premature. When I speak in favor of early 
matrimony, I do it in view of that tendency which 
exists and increases in civilized life, especially 
in cities, to defer this subject to a very late pe¬ 
riod, which usually results in celibacy—a condition 
which, except in peculiar circumstances, is not 
only socially but morally injurious. 

“ Without a friend, the world is but a wilder¬ 
ness,” says an old but true adage. But as a gen¬ 
eral rule, that person, male or female, who resolves 
on celibacy, resolves to be friendless ; that is, des¬ 
titute of the truest friends. “ If you have one 
friend, think yourself happy,” says another adage. 
Such a one—if you are wise in the selection—is 
the person you make your constant companion by 


FRIENDSHIP. 


65 


marriage. And I say again, the sooner this selec¬ 
tion is made, after we have reached the stormy 
period of life, the better. No matter if it be at 
the early age of sixteen. The union need not, 
and probably should not be consummated, till 
twenty-five; but if your hearts are united, you 
gain nearly all the benefits of friendship that you 
would if it were. Your companion elect cannot 
fail, if he is what he ought to be—and if not, it 
were better that the consummation should never 
take place—to act the part of true friendship, so 
far as circumstances may permit, and you may 
thus go on with the work of self-education. 

There is one thing which may seem, at first 
view, to diminish the necessity of seeking a friend 
by matrimony. Admitting that our parents and 
other near relatives frequently, and indeed gener¬ 
ally, fail to act the part of good and true friends, 
does not that giving of the heart to God which the 
Bible (whose authority is supposed to be acknow¬ 
ledged by all those for whom I am writing) enjoins, 
secure that object ? Does it not secure to us that 
wisdom which cometh from above, and which can¬ 
not, of course, be less valuable than earthly friend¬ 
ship ? And does it not also secure to us the true 
friendship of our brethren with '’ horn we are asso¬ 
ciated ? 


5 


66 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Of the friendship of God—however indispensa¬ 
ble and valuable—I did not intend to speak particu¬ 
larly in this work. But I am sorry to say, that 
so far as I have observed, we do not derive those 
advantages of true friendship from our brethren in 
the church which, from the nature of the relation, 
might be expected. That we do not , is indeed a 
great mistake. But since it is a fact, and cannot 
at once be wholly remedied, we must take the 
only course which remains. Nor can this relation 
ever be wholly substituted for the other, because 
it can never be so constant or intimate. 

There is one partial substitute more. Our 
enemies, if we have any, are frequently our best 
friends, short of a matrimonial friend. They will 
be apt to tell us some truth. They will not 
scruple, it is true, to tell more than the truth, in 
too many instances ; but this should not prevent 
us from reaping the benefit of the good they actu¬ 
ally do us, in amending the faults they disclose. 

The thought that our enemies are our best 
friends, in any case, short of the relation of husband 
and wife, is indeed painful; but if it be just—if the 
fact be so—should it be suppressed ? Besides, will 
it not greatly enhance the general importance of 
matrimony ? And in the present age, when there 
is such an obvious increase of celibacy, as well as 


FRIENDSHIP. 


67 


of licentiousness, is not this a matter of the highest 
importance ? 

All this general reasoning, it may be thought, is 
misplaced—directed to the wrong individual. The 
object is, to show the importance—ay, and the 
necessity, too—on the part of the young wife, of 
being what God, in nature, and especially in the 
divine institution of matrimony, intended she should 
be. That the husband requires, more than the 
wife, such counsel as this, does not prove that the 
wife needs it not at all. Besides, the saying that 
he who would have friends must first be friendly, 
will apply here with peculiar force. The wife 
who wishes ardently to have her husband act the 
part of a true friend, must set the example. As 
“love, and love only, is the loan for love,” so 
friendship only, is the loan for friendship—I mean, 
for a friendship which is permanent and worth 
possessing. 

Let not the reader smile at what she may 
choose to call a long philosophical effort to prove 
the necessity of her being a friend to her husband. 
She may not feel its necessity, in her own case; 
and it may not, possibly, be needed. But for one 
who needs not to consider the subject—carefully, 
and I may say prayerfully too—there are, I am 
sure, a hundred who do. But if not—if the re- 


68 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


marks of this chapter are so obviously misapplied 
as to impair the public confidence in the general 
merits of the book, such a result will so raise my 
estimate of human nature, that I shall not regret 
to see the book itself consigned to oblivion. 






CHAPTER VIII. 




LOVE. 

) f T* 

Is it necessary for love to decline after marriage ? Internal 
love increases. Means of increasing it. Doing good to 
others makes us love them. Anecdotes; the little girl— 
the deist. Love, a matter within our own control. Gen¬ 
eral rule. Cautions. 


It would excite a smile were I to exhort you, 
in so many words, to love your husbands. And 
yet I fear that, in too many instances, no exhorta¬ 
tion is more needed. I fear that as society is now 
constituted, the love of many a young wife is very 
far from being what it ought to be. 

There is a very general opinion abroad, that the 
love of husband and wife must, after marriage, 
necessarily begin to decline. Or if it can be kept 
up at all, that it can only be done by special or 
extraordinary exertion. This, in my view, is a 
great mistake. 

I know there is a species of love, if it deserves 
the name, which declines soon after marriage; 
and it is no matter if it does. If there is nothing 
but this which attracts a young couple—if the 



70 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


love which has drawn them into matrimony is 
merely a personal, or I would rather say an exter¬ 
nal love—if the parties are neither of them bound 
by any mental or moral attraction, the sooner we 
are undeceived in a matter of such unspeakable 
moment, the better. 

There can be no objection to external love, 
where it is a mere accompaniment of that which 
is internal. What I object to, is the making too 
much of it; or giving it a place in our heart 
which is disproportioned to its real value. Our 
affections should rather be based chiefly on sweet¬ 
ness of temper, intelligence and moral excellency. 
It is the internal which we should chiefly regard, 
and not the external, except in so far as the latter 
is an appropriate index of the former. 

This internal love it is which will form the 
subject of the present chapter. It is this which 
I wish to have kept up and increased in the matri¬ 
monial relation. It is this to which I refer when 
I say, love your husbands. It is this which, 
instead of declining, may be made, to use lan¬ 
guage which has been appropriated to another and 
still more important subject, to bum brighter and 
brighter “ unto the perfect day.” 

A capital mistake has been often made in regard 
to the means of inducing or increasing love. “ It is 
more blessed to give than.to receive,” is the scripture 


LOVE. 


71 


rule ; but this has been too generally inverted, and 
mankind have seemed to act on the principle that 
it is more blessed to receive than to give. 

Let me be fully understood. My paraphrase 
of the scripture doctrine above quoted would be 
the following—“ We love those to whom we do 
good, more than we love those who do good to 
us ; ” and mankind, by their practice, seem to have 
inverted it. They seem to take it for granted, 
that we love those who do good to us more than 
we love those to whom we do good. 

Nowhere, in practical life, is this mistake more 
common than in the matrimonial relation, espe¬ 
cially in its early stages. The husband, in order 
to secure the affection of his companion, bestows 
on her a thousand little attentions and favors. He 
supposes that if it gratifies her to receive them, 
her affection will increase in proportion to their 
frequency, and the pleasure they seem to afford 
her. And the wife sometimes bestows her little 
attentions upon him on the same principle. 

Now I dp not undertake to say or intimate that 
such is not, in any degree, the result—for I believe 
quite otherwise. Indeed, we are not told that we 
do not love at all those who do good to us, but 
only that the love of the receiver is not increased 
by the gift in as great a degree, or rather as rapidly, 
as that of the giver. 


72 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


This principle, fully understood, would explain 
to both parties why their efforts in matrimonial life 
to secure each other’s affection and confidence, are 
not always proportional to their expectations. It 
may also prevent those feelings of disappointment 
which sometimes arise, and those distressing doubts 
whether their own confidence may not have been 
misplaced. 

It is undoubtedly an innocent, I had almost 
said happy mistake, since it turns out that though 
we fail to secure the esteem, confidence and affec¬ 
tion of a companion, as rapidly as we expected, 
we are yet increasing, unknown to ourselves, our 
own measure and strength of affection—perhaps 
as much beyond any reasonable anticipations and 
expectations as in the other case they fall short; so 
that though we are disappointed in some respects, 
in regard to the result of our efforts, nothing is on 
the whole lost. Everything we do, say, think, or 
even design or wish, for a companion, is increasing 
our own attachment to him, whatever the effect 
may be on his own mind and heart, in relation 
to us. 

I am the more anxious to enforce this great 
principle, because, though generally assented to, 
it seems to me very little understood in its full 
extent, and still less enforced in practical life, 
whether in the married or single relation. For 


LOVE. 


73 


this purpose, you will indulge me in one or two 
familiar illustrations. 

When I was opce living, for a short time, the 
life almost of a hermit, there was in the neighbor¬ 
hood a little girl, about three years old, whose 
society I valued greatly, but who seemed wholly 
indifferent to me. To gain her attachment and 
allure her to my study, for the sake of that familiar 
conversation with little children of which I was so 
fond, I began to give her books, pictures, flowers, 
&c., as well as relate stories to her. But all, to 
my great surprise, to no purpose. She continued 
indifferent and unmoved. At last I contrived to 
put her upon a course of bestowing favors on me, 
such as flowers, fruits, and the like. No sooner 
was this effected, than ,an attachment began to 
spring up, as I could plainly see. And now I 
found her visits so often repeated that her absence 
would at times have been quite as agreeable as 
her company. 

I met, one day, with a deist. He insisted that 
the requirement to love our enemies was not 
founded in a knowledge of human nature, since to 
obey it was impossible. I asked whether he was 
sure it was impossible. He only said he had not 
found it possible, by actual experiment. I asked 
him if he admitted the truth of the principle that 
doing good produces love. He replied that he 


74 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


< 


did, most unhesitatingly. Then, said I, is it im¬ 
possible to do good to our enemies ? “ Oh no.” 

Now, then, I rejoined, you admit that we have it 
in our power to do good to our enemies, and that 
doing good must, from its nature, produce love to 
the person to whom the good is done ; and yet 
you say it is impossible to love our enemies. He 
was struck with a mode of reasoning which he 
had not expected, and did not attempt a reply. 

This is not the place to prove that when our 
Lord commands all his followers to love their ene¬ 
mies, he only means that they must love them 
precisely in this way—that is, by means of doing 
good to them; but only that, if this were all which 
is meant, the love of our enemies is still within our 
power. 

This conclusion, then, that we have it in oui 
power to love whom we will, is the grand point at 
which I wish to arrive, and the very point which 
I have introduced these illustrations to establish. 

It is a conclusion, too, of the utmost importance 
to the newly married couple. It tells them, in the 
plainest language, that love need not begin to 
diminish as soon as the marriage ceremony is over, 
but that it may increase indefinitely ; and that we 
have it in our power, to a considerable extent, to 
say how long it shall continue to increase, and 
how far it shall be carried. < 


LOVE. 


75 


If, therefore, you find there is any danger that 
the external attachment you have formed for your 
husband is beginning to decline, do not hastily 
conclude that there is anything wrong—anything 
which has been misapprehended—in forming the 
relation. It may be a favorable omen. It cer¬ 
tainly will be, if its place is fully supplied by that 
internal attachment of which I have just now been 
speaking, and which is the result of doing good. 

In this view, as I have already said, you have 
it in your power to increase the flame of internal 
love towards him to whom you have consented to 
stand as an “help-meet,” and to an extent to 
which it is impossible to assign any limits. Wher¬ 
ever you are, and how great soever the attachment 
between you, and whether, for aught I know, in 
this state of existence or any other, you may cal¬ 
culate on an ability to increase his happiness and 
your own love. The secret consists in doing him 

As to the appropriate means and methods of 
doing him good, it seems at first view almost unne¬ 
cessary for me to say one word. And yet 1 am 
willing to do so; for there may be those who will 
not regard me as tedious. I shall not indeed pre¬ 
sume to point out the particular ways and means 
in which a young wife can do good to her husband, 


76 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


but only to give a few hints. Some of these 
means have been set forth at full length, in pre¬ 
ceding chapters; and others will be involved in 
the treatment of other topics, in chapters to follow. 

One general rule may here be laid down, which 
is—“ Do everything for your husband which your 
strength and a due regard to your health will 
admit.” I will not say that it were not wise, some¬ 
times, to go even beyond your strength—to deny 
yourself—and even to make a self-sacrifice. But 
I do insist on your going to the borders, at least, 
of self-denial and self-sacrifice. 

Such advice, at first view, may seem to be un¬ 
reasonable. It may be said that I would make 
woman a slave. No such thing : I would make her 
a Christian—and a happy one. I would give her 
that freedom to which Christianity, with its high 
hopes and promises, bids her to aspire. 

She will not long be compelled to be a menial 
to her husband. He must be a brute, and worse 
than a brute, whom such a course of active devoted 
service will not arouse to corresponding action. I 
am not ignorant of the fact that, in some instances, 
the more we do for others, the more they will 
allow us to do for them j/'and that what is at first 
considered on all hands as gratuitous on our part, 
they will ere long, if continued, claim as their 
due. ) 


LOYE. 


77 


But it is seldom thus in the matrimonial relation. 
Few who bear the shape, and none who have the 
souls of men, will permit a wife to continue long 
to do everything in the way I have mentioned. 
They will yield, and be led gradually to imbibe the 
same spirit. When this is done—when the hus¬ 
band and wife both strive to do everything in their 
power for each other—then will they have attained 
a high degree of felicity. Then, too, will they 
have secured, most effectually, the power to rise 
still higher, and to love each other more and more 
ardently. 

It is an almost universal custom to act on the 
other principle—to do nothing for each other, as we 
pass along the road of matrimonial life, which we 
can help—that, like a canker, slowly eats out the 
life-blood of domestic happiness. Oh that hus¬ 
bands—but I write not now for them-—oh that 
wives were universally wise on this subject; and 
that they would consider well the tendencies of 
these things. If I am right, there is much error 
abroad on this subject, and in few things is a 
reform more necessary. 

But, it is said, we must be content to wait, with 
patience, for results; that we must not expect too 
much of the world immediately; and that woman 
will be elevated slowly, in the progress of things* 


78 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


without extra effort. It may be so. We hope it 
will be so. But I do not expect it, nor are expec¬ 
tations of this kind founded in a knowledge of 
human nature as it is, or as it ever has been. 



CHAPTER IX. 


DELICACY AND MODESTY. 

Many forms of immodesty. A quotation. Modesty in 
matrimony. Unchaste language. Example to the hus 
band. Specimens of bad examples. 

It may be thought unnecessary to conjoin 
modesty with delicacy; as few of those whom this 
work will reach will need its counsels. A female 
who is wanting in modesty, it may be said, will 
not be likely to take up a book like this; much 
less to heed its contents. 

This remark would be more just if the term 
modesty was as narrow in its application as it has 
sometimes been regarded—if it referred only to 
external or overt actions. But there is a great 
deal of immodesty in the world—and I fear the 
matrimonial relation does not always exclude it— 
which falls far short of overt action. 

I have seen this trait of character exhibited, and 
with the most injurious effects, where not a word 
was uttered which could be directly blamed; and 
in some instances, where there were no words at 


80 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


all. I have witnessed looks which spoke as effec¬ 
tually as words, and which did not fail to make 
their natural impression on the youthful mind. I 
have heard the sly innuendo, and witnessed, too, the 
effects of that. And I have seen a wife—need I 
say here a mother ?*—who thought she would not, 
for the world, have been the author of either the 
look or the innuendo, and who yet seemed to relish 
both. Or at least she did not disapprove of them. 
But not to express disapprobation, in such cases, 
is always, in effect, to approve. 

“ I have been in families where loose insinua¬ 
tions and coarse innuendoes were so common, that 
the presence of respectable company scarcely 
operated as a restraint upon the unbridled tongues 
even of the parents ! Many of these things had 
been repeated so often, and under such circum¬ 
stances, that the children, at a very early age, 
perfectly understood their meaning and import.” 

Nothing is more deeply to be regretted than 
the increasingly prevalent notion, that modesty 
and delicacy are less necessary subsequent to than 
before marriage. This sentiment meets with a 
handsome rebuke in the “ Whisper to a Mamed 
Couple.” “I know not two female attractions,” 
says the author, “ so captivating to men, as delicacy 
and modesty. Let not the familiar intercourse 
which marriage produces, banish such powerful 


DELICACY AND MODESTY. 


81 


charms. On the contrary, this very familiarity 
should be your strongest excitement in endeavoring 
to preserve them ; and believe me, the modesty so 
pleasing in the bride may always, in a great degree, 
be supported by the wife” 

The individual who gives herself up to the use 
of improper or unchaste language, or even to the 
endurance of it unchecked, is giving up at the 
same time the out-posts of all human virtue. The 
evil of being immodest, or unchaste, or indelicate, 
is great enough in itself considered. But this is 
not all. The vices are all associated ; and they 
who have been introduced to either, or especially 
to all of these, are likely soon to become ac¬ 
quainted with others, and perhaps the whole broth¬ 
erhood of them. Let us therefore beware of an 
improper or indelicate word or look, or even 
thought. Let us set a guard over the thoughts; 
for it is out of the abundance of these that not 
only the mouth speaks, but the hands act. Espe¬ 
cially is it incumbent on the wife to do this. 

Every young wife may have a delicate and 
modest husband. But in order to this, he must 
first have a wife of true modesty and delicacy. 
She may not indeed transform him in a day, or a 
week ; but her ultimate success, if she persevere, 
is certain. No husband who has the least claim 
to the name, can always withstand it. I know 
6 


82 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


there are many husbands who are somewhat bru¬ 
tish ; but I know, too, that there are many wives 
who are wanting in true delicacy of thought and 
feeling, and sometimes of language. 

She is not truly delicate who uses, or endures 
patiently the use in others, of those coarse, vulgar 
words with which the conversation of many persons 
is continually interlarded ; such as—“ My stars ! ” 
“ My soul! ” “ By George ! ” “ Good heavens ! ” 
&c. Such expressions, besides being indelicate, 
savor not a little of profanity. They are exceed¬ 
ingly unbecoming in all, but especially in females. 


CHAPTER X. 


LOVE OF HOME. 

Paul’s opinion. Effects of “ gadding.” Anecdote. Dislike 
of home. Error in female education. Importance of 
loving home. A picture drawn by Solomon. Two pic¬ 
tures by Abbott. Effects of loving home on the family. 
Hints to the reader. The Family Monitor. 

The great apostle of the Gentiles, in his letter 
to Titus, has condescended to inculcate the idea 
that a young wife should be a keeper at home. 
But in order to be a keeper at home, she must 
first learn to love domestic life. Even Paul him¬ 
self, would not have her stay at home, when she 
regarded it as a prison. 

No small share of domestic felicity hangs on 
this single point. I never knew a husband very 
happy whose wife was fond of gadding. Taking it 
for granted that she rules well her own tongue 
while abroad—which is far from being uniformly 
the case—still, she cannot discharge the duties of a 
wife, much less those of a mother, unless she prefers 
home to all other places, and is only led abroad 
from a sense of duty, and not from choice. 


84 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


The wife of a distinguished senator in Congress, 
from one of the New England States, assures me 
that for eleven years of her early matrimonial life, 
she never went a mile from the place of her resi¬ 
dence. I am surprised that her husband—for he 
was an excellent man—should have permitted 
this; but so it was. She spoke of it, however, 
not as a privation, but as a pleasure. But there 
are few females, at the present day, who would 
do this. 

On the contrary, a very large share of young 
wives in the fashionable world seem to tax their 
ingenuity to the utmost, to devise some plan for 
keeping away from home. One would think, by 
their countenance, voice and manner, that they 
regarded the latter as only a kind of necessary 
evil. And is it not so ? 

Where is it that the eye brightens, the smile 
lights up, the tongue becomes flippant, the form 
erect, and every motion cheerful and graceful? 
Is it at home ? Is it in doing the work of the 
kitchen ? Is it at the wash-tub—at the oven— 
darning a stocking—mending a coat—making a 
pudding ? Is it in preparing a neat table and 
table cloth, with a few plain but neat dishes ? Is it 
in covering it with some of nature’s simple but 
choice viands ? Is it in preparing the room for 
the reception of an absent companion ? Is it in 


LOVE OF HOME. 


85 


wanning and lighting the apartments at evening, 
and waiting, with female patience, for his return 
from his appointed labor ? Is it in greeting him 
with all her heart on his arrival ? 

Or is all this regarded—and seen by the husband 
to be regarded—as mere drudgery, from which she 
would rejoice to be exempted ? Is she often found 
silent at home, with nobody there but her husband, 
heaving now and then perhaps a sigh, and uttering 
occasionally an anxious wish ? Are her warmest 
expressions and sweetest tones, her happiest looks 
and most joyous steps reserved for the party, the 
concert, the call, the steamboat excursion, the lec¬ 
ture, the theatre or the exhibition ? 

It pains me excessively to know, from actual 
observation, that the latter is the true picture of 
a proportion of our modem female companions. 
They do not seem to marry with a view to the 
happiness of domestic life. They appear to regard 
home—the kitchen, especially—as the grave of all 
true freedom and enjoyment. What object such 
persons have in view, in entering into wedlock, it 
is difficult to conceive, unless it be to comply with 
fashion, and to avoid reproach. Do they not resem¬ 
ble, in some respects, the seven persons who are 
represented in the language of prophecy, as laying 
hold of the skirt of one Jew, saying—“ We will 
eat our own bread, and wear our own apparel 


86 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


only let us be called by thy name, to take away 
our reproach ? ” 

There is something radically wrong in that edu¬ 
cation which permits females to come to maturity 
withont the most exalted notions of domestic bliss, 
and without the highest anticipations of sharing in 
the honor of its creation. How much more .erro¬ 
neous still, to suffer them to come upon the stage 
of action, not only destitute of this sacred regard 
for domestic felicity, but even hating it. And yet 
I have seen many a young lady of mature years, 
who honestly confessed that she should dread death 
far less than confinement to a single house, and to 
the cares of a household. 

How totally unfit is such a person to become a 
help-meet to man ! How entirely disqualified to 
discharge the great duties which Providence as¬ 
signs her in the work of educating herself and 
others! 

If there be among my readers a young wife who 
has entertained these sentiments, let her consider. 
It is not too late. She may bring herself to take 
pleasure in what she now hates. Strong faith or 
belief in the importance of a thing, and a powerful 
will to execute what we believe to be right, are 
almost omnipotent. 

Let her consider well the structure of human 
society. Let her consider well what is the first 


LOVE OF HOME. 


87 


and most important nursery of thought and affec¬ 
tion—the first school for the formation of human 
character. Let her consider who is the first— 
nay, the most efficient—of human teachers. Let 
her remember the power, as well as the influence 
of maternal love. Let her hearken to the voice 
of nature, which speaks to her of duty, and points 
her to the highest happiness. Let her hear the 
still small voice of conscience, unless that con¬ 
science has been most strangely stifled or perverted. 
Let her hear, lastly, the voice that speaks from 
heaven, which prescribes her being’s end and aim, 
her proud prerogative, and her sacred responsibili¬ 
ties, and which assigns her reward. 

There are no duties on earth so nearly angelic 
as those which devolve on woman. Let the 
young wife then gird herself to the work which is 
appointed her. Let her resolve to be what she is 
made to be—a messenger—an angel. Let her 
take hold of the promises which belong to the 
faithful wife, and resolve that what she knows to 
be her duty shall be faithfully pursued. Let her 
do this, and what is right will soon become agreea¬ 
ble, on the known principles of human nature. 

We can never enough admire the simplicity and 
naturalness of Solomon’s description of a good 
wife—the wise and virtuous mistress of a happy 
household—delighted with her home, and striving 


88 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


to make her husband and her maidens equally 
delighted and happy. The following is the portion 
of scripture referred to, as we find it presented in 
Dr. Coit’s arrangement. Let not my fashionable 
readers, if perchance I should have any such, 
complain that Solomon was an old-fashioned man. 
If the fashions which he approves are good ones, 
and the home which he describes a happy one, 
are they less . so because they were in favor three 
thousand years ago ? 

“ She seeketh wool and flax, 

And worketh diligently with her hands. 

She is like the merchants’ ships; 

She bringeth her food from afar. 

She riseth also while it is yet night, 

And giveth meat to her household, 

And a portion to her maidens.” 

“ She perceiveth that her merchandize is good : 

Her candle goeth not out by night. 

She layeth her hands to the spindle, 

And her hands hold the distaff*. 

She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; 

Yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. 

She is not afraid of the snow for her household; 

For all her household are clothed with scarlet. 

She maketh herself coverings of tapestry ; 

Her clothing is silk and purple. 

Her husband is known in the gates, 

When he sitteth among the elders of the land. 

She maketh fine linen and selleth it; 

And delivereth girdles unto the merchant. 

Strength and honor are her clothing; 


LOVE OF HOME. 


89 


And she shall rejoice in time to come. 

She openeth her mouth with wisdom; 

And in her tongue is the law of kindness. 

She looketh well to the ways of her household, 

And eateth not the bread of idleness. 

Her children arise up and call her blessed, 

Her husband also, and he praiseth her.” 

This, we may be assured, was never the picture 
of a wife who did not love home. Nor would 
such a wife as this, ever have reason to complain 
of her husband for going abroad to seek enjoyment. 
Not one man in a thousand would ever absent 
himself, who had such a home as the virtuous 
woman just described presided over, during the long 
winter’s evenings, because he was otherwise soli¬ 
tary. Not one in a thousand, whose habits were 
unvitiated, would fly from his own fireside every 
time he found a leisure moment, to join the club at 
yonder store, or the gang at the neighboring dram 
shop, or the motley crowd that throng the road 
which leads to intemperance. If all wives loved 
and delighted in their homes as Solomon would 
have them, few husbands would go down to a 
premature grave through the avenues of intempe¬ 
rance and lust, and their kindred vices. 

Abbott, in his “ Path of Peace,” presents some 
very striking pictures of home. The following 
are selected for the sake of the contrast. The 
first is a home which is unhappy. 


90 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


“ Here is a Christian lady entering her parlor 
in the morning. She finds that the servant has 
made some gross blunder in her morning duties. 
The breakfast table is not properly arranged ; the 
toast, perhaps, is burnt; or tea has been provided 
instead of coffee. At once she is thrown off her 
guard. Her peace of mind is all gone. Vexed 
and irritated, she loads the servant with all that 
lady-like abuse with which not a few parlors are 
familiar. When the husband enters, he finds his 
wife with flushed cheek and clouded brow, and all 
the enjoyment of the morning meal is gone.” 

But now for the other picture. 

“ The husband sees his wife moving about the 
house serene and happy. She is faithful in the 
discharge of all her duties ; she will not allow her 
feelings to be irritated by the annoyances of faith¬ 
ful domestics. He passes through the kitchen, 
and finds that the same religion which makes her 
cheerful in the parlor, controls her feelings there. 
The smile is there upon her countenance, and 
good nature animates her heart. My dear wife, 
says he, is almost an angel. Oh that I had such 
control over my feelings as she has over hers! 
Molested as she is, altogether beyond my power of 
endurance, by the carelessness and unfaithfulness 
of those whom she employs, she is still always 
calm, and mild, and happy. 


LOVE OF HOME. 


91 


“ He comes home at night, worn down with the 
toil of the day, and a cheerful room and a cheerful 
heart embrace him. His troubled spirit is soothed 
by the quiet influence which she throws around 
him. 

“ Perhaps he is naturally a passionate man, and 
comes home vexed and petulant. But the neat 
fireside, the pleasant table, the peaceful home, the 
soothing tones of his wife’s voice, calm his per¬ 
turbed spirit. He feels that home is indeed a 
blessed retreat from the turmoil of business, and he 
will not leave it till duty compels him.” 

I do not believe one woman in a hundred has 
any conception of the good which divine Provi¬ 
dence, by appointing her to be a help-meet of 
man, puts it in her power to do. It is not in 
humanity to resist, wholly, the silent influences of 
voice, tone, look, step, gait—everything, in one 
word, which constitutes example—in those whom 
we love. Happiness begets happiness; and do¬ 
mestic happiness is peculiarly prolific. He must 
be a brute who does not heed, feel, yield to the 
force of its heavenly influence, and become thereby 
modified, improved, adorned, exalted. 

If it be asked why I do not particularize more— 
why I do not dwell at greater length on the meth¬ 
ods of imparting this influence—my reply is, that 
it is not in the forms themselves to accomplish 


92 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


anything, unless there be a quickening spirit to 
accompany them. But if there be a spirit within— 
if there be a hearty desire to produce happiness 
ever pervading the female bosom, it will not fail to 
find its way forth. Not that the forms are wholly 
unimportant, for they are not so ; but I regard 
their importance as only secondary. 

There is, however, one condition to be complied 
with by every wife who would induce her husband 
to love home—which is, that her own cheerfulness 
and happiness and love, which are ever the chief 
instruments of human reformation and transforma¬ 
tion, be steady and consistent. In vain will she 
hope to accomplish much, who is happy by fits and 
starts only. Domestic bliss—whatever may be 
said of other bliss—is not like the agitated ocean, 
nor yet the perturbed stream. It does not come 
in the whirlwind, nor in the tornado ; but in the 
gentle ever-fanning breeze, and in the ever-distil¬ 
ling dew of heaven. 

I have sometimes pitied wives who have an 
ardent desire to render their homes and their hus¬ 
bands happy. Indeed, the number of such wives 
is larger, in this world, than our sex are sometimes 
wont to admit. I have pitied them, I say ; but it 
was because neither their desires nor the accom¬ 
panying efforts were uniform. Woman is not 
trained to give a steady light and heat like the sun, 


LOVE OF HOME. 


93 


but to dazzle us, rather, with the meteor, or bum 
us with the comet. And until our system of 
female education is reversed, and woman is edu¬ 
cated to make mankind truly happy, as a leading 
object, the greater part of her effort—vacillating 
and unsteady as it is—must be lost, as is our 
preaching upon her. This is not said to discourage 
her; for though she cannot hope to transform earth, 
nor even her own home, at once, into a paradise, 
she can do something towards it. And the less 
an individual can do, and the greater the necessity 
that the whole race should be co-workers in build¬ 
ing up and adorning and exalting humanity, the 
more is it incumbent on each individual of the 
race to be active at his post, and to do the little 
in his power. 

I would that women of tme benevolence and 
piety, were not so apt to dwell on the nar¬ 
rowness of their sphere of usefulness, and the 
smallness of their means for accomplishing good. 
They forget, in my opinion, what doing good is. 
They forget, or do not know, that to make the 
domestic circle what it should be, is one principal 
object of their mission. They forget that heaven, 
if it begin at all, must begin below the sun ; and 
that the fairest known type of the bliss beyond the 
orave, is the little world of bliss which woman 
forms around the domestic fireside. 


94 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


The reader who wishes to dwell a moment 
longer on this most interesting and important topic, 
may peruse the following extracts from James’s 
Family Monitor. I would only amend it by say¬ 
ing, that he who labors with his pen, or in the shop 
or factory, is no less delighted with the happy 
home which this writer so beautifully portrays, 
than he who labors in the field, under the fierce 
beams of the sun. 

“ To ensure, as far as possible, the society of 
her husband at his own fireside, let the wife be a 
‘ keeper at home,’ and do all in her power to ren¬ 
der that fireside as attractive as good temper, 
neatness, and cheerful, affectionate conversation 
can make it; let her strive to make his own home 
the soft green on which his heart loves to repose, 
in the sunshine of domestic enjoyment. 

“ O woman ! thou knowest the hour when the 
‘ good man of the house ’ will return at mid-day, 
while the sun is bowing down the laborer with the 
fierceness of his beams, or at evening, when the 
burden and heat of the day are past;—do not let 
him, at such a time, when he is weary with exer¬ 
tion, and faint with discouragement, find, upon his 
coming to his habitation, that the foot which should 
hasten to meet him is wandering at a distance— 
that the soft hand which should wipe away the 
sweat from his brow is knocking at the door of 


LOVE OF HOME. 


95 


other houses ; nor let him find a wilderness where 
he should enter a garden—confusion where he 
should see order, or filth that disgusts, where he 
might hope to behold neatness that delights and 
attracts. 

“ If this be the case, who can wonder that, in 
the anguish of disappointment, and in the bitterness 
of a neglected and heart-broken husband, he turns 
from his own door for that comfort which he wished 
to enjoy at home, and that society which he hoped 
to enjoy in his wife, and puts up with the substi¬ 
tutes for both which he finds in the houses of other 
men, or in the company of other women. 

“ United to be associates, then, let man and wife 
be as much in each other’s society as possible; 
and there must be something wrong in domestic 
life, when they need the aid of balls, routs, plays, 
and card parties, to relieve them from the tedium 
produced by home pursuits. I thank God I am a 
stranger to that taste which leads a man to flee 
from his own comfortable parlor, and the society 
of his wife—from the instruction and recreation 
contained in a well-stored library, or the evening 
rural walk, when the business of the day is over, 
to scenes of public amusement for enjoyment. To 
my judgment, the pleasures of home and home 
society, when home and home society are all that 
could be desired, are such as never cloy, and need 


96 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


no change, but from one kindred scene to an¬ 
other. 

“ I am sighing and longing, perhaps in vain, for 
a period when society shall be so elevated and so 
purified—when the love of knowledge will be so 
intense, and the habits of life will be so simple— 
when religion and morality will be so generally 
diffused, that men’s houses will be the seat and 
circle of their pleasures ; when, in the society of 
an affectionate and intelligent wife, and of well 
educated children, each will find his greatest earthly 
delight; and when it will be felt to be no more 
necessary to quit their own fireside for the ball 
room or the concert, than it is to go from the 
well-spread table to the public feast, to satisfy the 
craving of a healthy appetite. Then it will be 
no longer imposed upon us to prove that public 
amusements are improper, for they will be found 
unnecessary.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


SELF-RESPECT. 

A principle. Self-respect should be early cultivated. An 
anecdote. 

Every person tends to become what he is taken 
to be ; and every person is taken to be what he 
takes himself to be. At least, there is so much 
of truth in this statement that it may safely be 
regarded as a general rule. 

Let a young lady be brought up in the belief, 
that she is inferior in natural capacity, to her com¬ 
panions of the same age and circumstances ; let 
her, moreover, have very little respect, not only for 
her own natural understanding, but for her acquired 
talents ; let her also consider herself as very low 
in the moral scale; let her, in short, respect herself 
but little—and^ what will be the consequence? 
Will she not cease to be respected by those around 
her, in the same proportion ? 

I do not say she will, in this way, wholly lose 
the respect of her friends ; but only that she will 


98 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


lose a measure of it, and that this measure will be 
in exact proportion to the measure of her own 
loss of respect for herself. 

In like manner, every young wife should remem¬ 
ber that the measure of her husband’s respect will 
be graduated by the respect she manifests for 
herself. If she deem it important to her happiness 
to appear, in his eyes, respectable, let her in the 
first place learn to set a proper estimate on herself, 
and maintain, in all circumstances, that dignity of 
character and that self-confidence, without which 
her object can never be secured. 

Let me not be misunderstood. I am not en¬ 
couraging pride or vanity. There is a wide dis¬ 
tinction between these and a just self-respect. 
They are as unbecoming, and will as surely tarnish 
the lustre of your character, as the latter will add 
to it. 

Nor am I disposed to encourage an assumption 
of what does not exist. Nothing will ever be 
gained by mere pretension. It should be your 
study to know what you are, and what is the 
measure of respect to which you are entitled, from 
your husband and others. And having formed a 
judgment, do not let your natural timidity or diffi¬ 
dence lead you into concessions which your judg¬ 
ment would not approve. 


SELF-RESPECT. 


99 


I have already treated at considerable length, 
on concession and submission to your husband. I 
have even insisted, at the risk of being regarded 
as heretical r , that such concession is sometimes 
your duty. Yet there is no clashing in all this. 
Two friends of the same sex may often yield their 
opinions to each other, when there is danger 
of collision, without any sacrifice of self-respect, 
and without losing, in the smallest degree, the 
respect of each other. 

I have sometimes thought that more pains ought 
to be taken by parents to cultivate in their chil¬ 
dren this virtue of self-respect; and I throw out 
the hint for the prospective benefit of my readers. 
I am the more disposed to do so, from the fact that 
I have known so many persons miserable through 
life, because they were wanting in respect for 
themselves. 

M. R. was the eldest of two brothers, in a 
large family. The youngest was taught to respect 
himself; the other was made to think himself all 
but an idiot. The impression of his inferiority 
was strengthened by every possible circumstance 
of his treatment. And what he was taught to 
take himself to be, he accordingly became. With 
natural parts nearly equal to the average of man¬ 
kind, he grew up little better or more useful than 


100 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


an idiot. He was, indeed, decently fitted to be a 
“ hewer of wood and drawer of water ” to some 
person better educated. But an independent man 
he never was, and never would have been, had he 
lived a thousand years.—This anecdote will, of 
course, apply to the other sex ; for human nature, 
in this respect, is essentially the same in both man 
and woman. 


V ' ' ■: • 

PURITY OF CHARACTER. 


CHAPTER XII. 


Explanation of the term. Impurity of character very com¬ 
mon. Case of Lucius and Emilia. Seduction. The 
consequences. Several hints. 

They who suppose that less of the virtue which 
forms the subject of this chapter, is needed after 
than before marriage, have greatly mistaken the 
tendencies of our common nature. It is, as it 
were, the hinge on which everything else turns; 
not only in early life, but in middle age—and not 
only in middle age, but to the very close of our 
earthly existence. Nay, more than this—much 
more. It is one of the predominating virtues ot 
heaven. A disposition to purify ourselves, as 
Christ our master is pure, is more than once, in 
scripture, regarded as a leading evidence of his 
discipleship. 

But this purity of character goes much deeper 
than has sometimes been supposed. It is not suf¬ 
ficient that we abstain from open and gross miscon¬ 
duct at every age and in all circumstances. Nor 


102 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


is it sufficient that we avoid the use of words which 
have an acknowledged signification of this kind. 
I have seen those whose conduct was, thus far, 
for a time, unexceptionable. And all this, too, 
while there was ample external evidence—short of 
words or overt acts, it is true, but still obvious—of 
impurity within. It is not the “ mouth,” alone, 
nor even the mouth and the hand, that detect the 
“ abundance of the heart.” 

I have seen those—and in some grades of what 
is even called civilized society, the instances are 
by no means rare—whose lives were an almost 
continual series of violations of every law intended 
to secure human purity, who yet passed among us 
for good and virtuous citizens. 

Do you say this is a slander upon society ? 
Would that it were so. But alas, it is too true to 
be regarded as slander. 

Lucius and Emilia were trained as most young 
people are among us. They were never regarded 
as immoral or licentious. On the contrary, they 
were truly respectable, and universally beloved. 
Nor was there aught which was exceptionable 
during six long years of courtship. They were 
too selfish —were they actuated by no other mo¬ 
tives—to stoop to anything which might, even 
by possibility, bring upon them the finger of public 
scorn or odium. 


PURITY OF CHARACTER. 


103 


They have now been married about ten years. 
Alas, what a change have they undergone in their 
character! I do not say there is anything open 
and manifest, which is objectionable, but there is 
much within doors—seen only by the inmates of 
the family—which is very far from being what it 
should be. 

1 do not deny that Lucius was the first aggressor. 
Men, I believe, are usually the first to go astray, 
and the usual seducers of the other party. In the 
present case, this was the undoubted fact. Lucius 
has been acting the part of the seducer, from the 
very first month of matrimony. 

Let not the reader smile to hear me talk of 
seduction after matrimony. It is scarcely less 
common than at an earlier period. I am speaking 
of seduction of mind. “The mind,” says Dr. 
Watts, “is the standard of the man.” The great 
evil of external impurity consists in the fact that 
it indicates internal impurity—an impurity of the 
mind and soul. 

It is this impurity to which Lucius has step by 
step led Emilia. At first, her ear was pained by 
the most distant allusion which bore the stamp of 
licentiousness. She knew, full well, the tendency 
of his remarks, and they were, therefore, for a time, 
repulsed. But though improper remarks were for¬ 
bidden, means were not wanting to seduce, which 


104 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


fell far short of words. And no means which 
promised the least degree of success were left un¬ 
tried. 

But was it his design to injure ? By no means. 
He never dreamed of injury; he thought only of 
self-gratification. He believed himself entitled, in 
his present state of life, to every indulgence which 
that state could procure, short of actual injury to 
the health of the parties. 

It was in this view that he introduced, in the 
most artful manner, first his more distant allusions, 
then his innuendoes, and at length something bolder 
still. His progress was indeed slow. Day after 
day, for several years, brought but little change. 
Still a change was visible to most of the friends, 
especially to those who were intimate in the family. 

And now that ten years have passed away, what 
think you is the state of things ? Pitiable indeed— 
most truly so. Emilia is little more what she 
once,was, than the spirit of darkness is the seraph. 
She is fallen. She has sunk, even in her own 
estimation—and much more in the estimation of 
others—to rise, I fear, no more. There is, there¬ 
fore, seduction after marriage, as well as before— 
seduction of the mind and heart, I again say— 
and Emilia is its victim. 

Do you ask what and where are the evidences ? 
I answer—Enter the family. Watch the conduct 


PURITY OF CHARACTER. 


105 


of this once pure and happy couple. Hear that 
coarse innuendo. See whether it raises a blush. 
See whether it even induces a sorrowful look. Nay, 
see that oldest boy deciphering it. He has already 
become an adept at the business, and kis very soul 
is poisoned. He is ready, on his part, when the 
stormy period of life shall arrive, and perhaps 
somewhat before that period, to become the victim 
of the seducer ; for there are, in this lower world, 
seducers of males as well as of females. Ay, 
worse still;—he is already seduced ; and—aston¬ 
ishing as it may appear—by his own parents. His 
mind and conscience are defiled, and it is of little 
consequence whether the motions of the body have 
or have not yet begun to follow the impulses of 
the mind and the affections of the heart. 

But there is other evidence. Emilia’s own 
personal behaviour shows traces of the destroyer. 
She was once as remarkable for personal neatness 
and cleanliness, as for modesty of speech and be¬ 
haviour, and purity of heart. But both these are 
now rapidly disappearing, and will soon be num¬ 
bered, it is to be feared, with the things that were. 
Her tongue, too, which once knew not the art of 
evil speaking, is now beginning to be the retailei 
of those petty slanders at which, twelve, and even 
eight years ago, she would probably have shud¬ 
dered. 


106 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


The path of vice is down hill; and she who has 
entered but one step in the path of impurity, is on 
the high road to everything which debases and 
destroys. Nor does she traverse it alone. She is 
sure to have company—a company innumerable— 
both of the fraternity of the vices and of those who 
personify them. 

It may be said that this chapter should be di¬ 
rected to the young husband, or the young parent, 
rather than the young wife. Perhaps the sugges¬ 
tion is correct. And yet it seems desirable that 
the latter should know her danger. Prevention is 
my motto. “ Who would not give a trifle to pre¬ 
vent,” says an illustrious poet, “ what he would 
give a thousand worlds to cure ? ” 

I beg those for whom I have intended these 
paragraphs to ponder them well. Let them re¬ 
member that their danger lies in taking first steps. 
Let them be guarded well at every avenue. They 
are often most exposed who think themselves least 
so. “ I tremble for the man who does not tremble 
for himself,” said a preacher on temperance ; and 
the same might be said, with equal if not still 
greater force, by the preacher on purity of charac¬ 
ter. Especially is this true of him who pleads 
on this point with the female world. 

“ The character of woman,” says Stanford, in 
the “ Ladies’ Gift,” “ is like a bed of snow ; if it 


PURITY OF CHARACTER. 


107 


receive a blemish, however small and faint, it re¬ 
mains. Other snow may indeed fall upon it, and 
the frost may slightly gloss it over, but the sullied 
spot will still be there; and when the thaw comes, 
it will be discernible in the discolored mixture.” 

This figure is a very delicate one, but it is 
quite inadequate; since the small blemish upon the 
snow does not, of necessity, discolor the whole 
mass—whereas the slightest female impurity tends 
to extend itself till the whole character is affected by 
it. Nor does its influence end here; it moves on, 
affecting multitudes by example, and propagating 
itself, like the divided polypus, tc infinity. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


SIMPLICITY. 

Simplicity a virtue. Very rare. Simplicity of language. 

Story of Mrs. L. Simplicity of conduct. 

When I say that I consider simplicity a virtue 
in a young wife, I mean not by the term weak¬ 
ness of intellect, or any want of common sagacity. 
But I mean, rather, great plainness of language, 
dress and manners—an entire artlessness and free¬ 
dom from everything which savors in the smallest 
degree of cunning or duplicity. 

This simplicity is an ornament of great price in 
any individual; but it is especially becoming in 
the young married lady. It is one, moreover, 
which she should watch over, and be exceedingly 
studious to preserve. 

The necessity of preserving and cultivating sim¬ 
plicity of character, is enhanced by the considera¬ 
tion that, like other gems, it is exceedingly rare 
among us, and is every day becoming more so. 
The young wife, whether she comes from the 


SIMPLICITY. 


109 


family or the boarding school, is very apt to bring 
with her almost anything else, rather than this 
trait; and as she is now to commence an era in 
her life, it seems highly desirable that she should 
commence right. Hence it is, that I press upon 
her attention a due regard to simplicity. 

She should study simplicity in dress. But on 
this point I need not enlarge, as I shall have occa¬ 
sion to recur to it hereafter. 

She should study great plainness of speech. 
She should say just what she thinks. I do not, 
indeed, undertake to show that she should say all 
she thinks ; for that were quite another matter. 
Only let what is said, be exactly what is thought, 
and intended, and felt. 

Nothing can be more foolish, than anything like 
art or duplicity in the language of a wife to her 
husband. I know that some husbands like it well 
enough at first; but it is because they do not dis¬ 
cover its tendency. They at length become sick 
of it themselves; and will, if it be continued, de¬ 
spise her for it. 

Let me urge this point the more, from the fact 
that to be simple requires great self-denial. Every¬ 
where in society this virtue is becoming old-fash¬ 
ioned and vulgar. You will need, therefore, to be 
armed for battle; otherwise you will surely be swept 


110 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


along in the full tide of a wretched and despica¬ 
ble fashion, till your end is destruction—I mean, 
morally so. 

Do not be afraid of being laughed at. Mrs. L., 
an individual with whom I was formerly acquainted, 
was bred to be artless and sincere. She was just 
what she seemed to be. When she said a thing, 
you would know she spoke her heart. It would 
not require to be, like a foreign language, translated. 
If she approved of this or that statement, or of this 
or that course of conduct, you would know she did 
in sincerity. If she disapproved, you would know 
she was still equally artless and sincere. 

True, she did not pass her judgment on every¬ 
thing said and done around her in the world. She 
knew that it was very difficult to know all the 
various motives by which mankind are actuated 
and governed, or to understand all the circum¬ 
stances of an action, after it is brought forth. She 
was therefore slow to decide on merit or demerit. 
But whenever she felt herself really called upon to 
speak or give an opinion, she gave it in sincerity. 
She meant exactly what she said. True, she w as 
modest in her remarks; and when forced to dissent 
from the opinion of those around her, or to say 
that which she thought would be likely to give 
pain, she did it in the kindest possible manner. 


SIMPLICITY. 


Ill 


And what was the result of this simplicity ? Did 
it secure the confidence and friendship of those 
around her ? Or did it excite their ridicule, or 
awaken their displeasure ? 

I am glad to have it in my power to state, that 
it not only secured the friendship of most of those 
who knew her, but it always enabled her to retain 
the friends she had once acquired. Especially 
did it secure the full confidence of her husband. 
He knew exactly where to find her; he knew, 
therefore, how to prize her. 

A few indeed laughed, and called her silly. 
But who were they ? The butterflies that, though 
they appear so gay and promising in the morning, 
have half flitted out their days at noon ? The 
busy, heartless throng, that meet to say—“ How 
do you do ? ” and “ How glad I am to see you ! ” 
and “ How I hoped to have seen you long since, 
at my room ! ” and “ You must call as soon as 
possible, or I shall never forgive you ; ” and yet 
care not one straw about you, after all these 
pretensions ? Yes, these were the persons who 
laughed. The sober, sensible part of the commu¬ 
nity have something else to do besides laughing at 
good sense. They rejoice at it as a pearl of great 
price, wherever they find it. 

But duplicity of conduct, however common 
among us, is equally despicable with duplicity of 


112 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


language. Indeed, they commonly exist together, 
like twin sisters ; and are not more easily separated. 
A void both as you would the breath of the pesti¬ 
lence. Cultivate simplicity, in the fear of the Lord, 
with all the earnestness required by an apostle 
of old, in his letters to Timothy. In short, if you 
would go through the world happily, and reach the 
bar of an approving God, strive with all your 
power, not only to be what you ought to be, but to 
be what you seem to be. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


NEATNESS. 


Great importance of neatness. Want of it. Effects on the 
husband. Neatness in small matters. Structure of the 
skin. Necessity of bathing. Effect of neatness on morals. 
Effeet of example. Difficulties considered. How to train 
a husband to slovenliness. Want of neatness in little 
things. 

Next to purity of character, one of the most 
important duties of the young wife is, personal 
neatness. It is, indeed, a duty to herself, indepen¬ 
dently of her husband, since it has much to do with 
her own physical comfort, health and happiness. 

The eccentric Cobbett has inveighed loudly 
against a want of personal neatness in the female 
sex. I will not here imitate him ; but if the heat 
of his temper had never led him to express himself, 
not only forcibly but vulgarly on any other topic 
than this, he might well be pardoned. For next to 
impurity, I say again, few things are more repre¬ 
hensible in a female than slovenliness. 

I know well that some husbands appear to re¬ 
tain their first affection for their wives, even after 
8 


114 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


they find them wanting in neatness. But because 
such. things sometimes happen, will you run the 
risk ? A husband may consider that the fault is in 
part his own. In other words, he may consider, 
when he finds you deficient in neatness, that he 
ought to have known it earlier ; and that since he 
did not, it would be wrong in hiir to let this cir¬ 
cumstance prove a source of matrimonial misery. 
He may therefore be silent about what he would 
gladly prevent; since silence is, in such a case, 
the only course of wisdom. But it is not possible, 
m such a case, for the affection of a husband to 
increase, or even to continue ; and she is unwise 
who calculates upon it. 

What has been said thus far, on the subject of 
neatness, is intended to apply to those points of 
human conduct which come under general obser¬ 
vation. But there are a great many things that 
escape the public eye, which must not be over¬ 
looked, and which, with a person as nearly related 
as the husband is to the wife, cannot fail to have 
an influence. 

The world around you can indeed discover ao 
uncleanly face or hand, as well as your husband. 
But the world do not always discover so readily an 
uncleanly skin in general. And yet there are not a 
few who pride themselves on the neatness of the 
tips of their fingers and the most prominent parts 


NEATNESS. 


115 


oi the face—nay, who even wash to their wrists, 
and their ears, and quite beyond their ears, to 
their shoulders—who suffer their feet and the rest 
of their skin to remain unwashed for weeks or 
months; and I am afraid sometimes nearly the 
whole year round. 

Perhaps these persons do not always know the 
nature and structure of the human skin. Perhaps 
they do not know that there is not only a dense 
fog escaping from the surface of the body, at all 
points, during our whole existence, if we are in 
health, but also a continual oozing out of an oily 
substance on the surface of the skin, which, together 
with the moisture and the dust which reaches us 
through our clothes, constantly renders our person 
more or less unclean. I suppose, indeed, that 
such is the ignorance of most persons, of the 
human economy, that even this very plain and 
common fact, may have eluded their observation 
and escaped their attention. 

But let those who read these paragraphs, if they 
have hitherto remained in ignorance on this subject, 
resolve to look into the matter. At the present 
day, and in a young wife, such ignorance is unne¬ 
cessary ; nay, it is sometimes unjustifiable. There 
are books enough accessible to every person, which 
teach this simple doctrine of the human economy ; 
and she who makes the least pretension to duty 


116 


THE V0UNG WIFE. 


and responsibility as a wife, should not delay to 
acquire this species of knowledge. 

I have sometimes thought common sense might 
teach any female of real delicacy, that she ought 
to wash herself effectually to her wrists and shoul¬ 
ders, at least every day. Nay, even further ; one 
might almost believe that the odor of our bodies— 
so soon changed by remaining dirty—would remind 
us of the necessity of a general washing equally 
often. But it is not so. So far from it, indeed, 
are some of our young people, that they actually 
laugh at the promulgation of such an opinion, by 
the accomplished authoress of the “ Young Lady’s 
Friend.” 

From the young wife, however, better things are 
to be expected. It is hoped she will investigate the 
whole subject for herself, and govern her conduct 
according to the judgment she is led to form. 
Should her investigations be anything worthy of 
the name, I shall be satisfied ; since I believe they 
must result in a conviction of the truth of the doc¬ 
trines I am attempting to promulgate. 

The conclusion, then, to which I have arrived, 
in the progress of my own observations, and reflec¬ 
tions, and investigations, is, that no person of either 
sex, be the employments followed ever so much 
within doors and exempt from dust, can safely 
neglect washing the whole body effectually once 


NEATNESS. 


117 


a day, both in winter and summer. I say safely; 
because the neglect referred to is incompatible 
with health. 

But this is not all. It is not the mere health 
of the body that is concerned. Somehow or other, 
there is a very close connection between the purity 
of the body and that of the mind. And however 
slow or unwilling certain individuals among us 
may be to admit this connection, it is not the less 
true that it exists. The purity of which I have 
spoken at considerable length, in a former chapter, 
will hence be much more easily preserved, while 
the love, and confidence, and affection of the hus¬ 
band, if he be a man of sense, will be confirmed 
and strengthened. 

Besides these considerations, her example, if 
known, will greatly affect her husband; and if he 
be a busy man—a New Englander—there is little 
doubt that he will need—and greatly, too—the 
silent influence of her example. Nor will he be 
the only individual who, in the common course of 
things, will be thus affected. Habituated to daily 
and thorough ablution, the use, and pleasure even, 
of the exercise, will be often discoursed upon in 
the family ; and it is highly probable, to say the 
least, that she will, without exception, be imitated. 

I shall unquestionably be reminded here—rathei 
should be, were I to meet the reader face to face— 


118 


THE TOUNG WIFE. 


of the difficulties of daily ablution “ We have no 
means for heating water, nor an^ bathing tubs. 
You would not surely require us to plunge into 
the sea or the river.’ , 

No; I would not require , peremptorily, anything. 
If there were opportunities for sufficient retirement, 
I should have no sort of objection to either, during 
the summer. To the cold of the sea or the river, 
I should not certainly object; provided you were 
in good and vigorous health. 

But there is no necessity for exposure of this 
kind. Nor is there any absolute need of bathing 
tubs. They are convenient, it is acknowledged— 
but not indispensable. Nor is wann water indis¬ 
pensable. No person, of tolerable vigor, who will 
begin the practice in June, July or August, need 
fear to wash his whole body once a day in water 
of the common temperature of the atmosphere. 
And any one who will commence in either of those 
months, and persevere in the practice, will find no 
difficulty in continuing it through the winter, and 
even through her whole life. 

It has been said that bathing tubs are not abso¬ 
lutely indispensable. Many a person who washes 
daily, uses nothing but a common wash bowl. A 
quart of water, with those who have hands and 
know how to use them, will accomplish the object. 
Then, after washing, a coarse towel is needed; 


NEATNESS. 


119 


and it is exceedingly useful to follow the wiping 
of the body with the towel, by friction. This 
may be done with a dry towel, or with the naked 
hand, or with coarse mittens, or, if you prefer it, 
with the flesh brush. 

But neatness in our apartments is little less 
important than neatness of person. I hardly need 
remind sensible women of the importance of using 
as well as possessing the broom and duster; and 
yet there are individuals who need to be thus 
reminded. Some husbands have eyes as well as 
women ; and though they may become by degrees 
accustomed to almost anything, you are in danger 
of going too fast, and at once disgusting them. If 
you are really determined to let your broom and 
duster go without being used, unless it be when 
some friend or other visitor is announced, you 
ought to be exceedingly slow in bringing about the 
change, for fear of the disgust of which I have 
already spoken. I have seen men who appeared 
to retain their affection for their slovenly wives; 
but the latter had been careful not to initiate them 
into the mysteries of slovenliness too soon after 
marriage. 

A certain young man of the utmost external 
neatness, was united for life to a young woman 
of habits equally neat, at least apparently so; and 
yet three years had not elapsed before their dwell- 


120 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


ing exhibited, both externally and internally, the 
most unequivocal signs of disorder, confusion and 
slovenliness. How was the change effected ? 
Simply by slow and cautious management. Taking 
advantage of a blind affection and an almost unrea¬ 
sonable partiality, she had gradually thrown her 
chains round him, and made him not only a slave, 
but a willing one. 

She who means to train her husband to the 
same want of neatness in person, dress and apart¬ 
ments, in which she herself loves to indulge, 
should also avoid brushing down the cobwebs, 
which attach to the sides of the room. I have 
seen cobwebs hang about the comers and ceiling 
of rooms, which were under the care of those who 
were not by any means noted for slovenliness, for 
months together. 

This may be the proper place for adverting to 
certain other habits, which are a violation of that 
general neatness and delicacy which, somehow or 
other, appear to have a sort of relation to the 
internal character. I allude to a class of habits, 
gained, in all probability, at the infant or district 
school—while there compelled to sit motionless, 
contrary to nature—and not broken up, either in 
the boarding school or the family; and which I 
should feel a good degree of reluctance to name, 
were it not that I have seen some young husbands 


NEATNESS. 


121 


disgusted with them. Such are the habits of 
rubbing the eyes, or handling the ears or the nose, 
or scratching the head or other parts of the body. 

These habits, if pardonable elsewhere, and by 
every other person, will not be so by the young 
husband, unless he is half a brute; at least, if it 
be long continued. I repeat the sentiment. She 
who continues these little habits—small as they 
seem to be—will be much more likely to suffer, in 
her husband’s estimation, than she who commits 
many other errors, in themselves of far greater 
magnitude. These stand out so prominent, that 
they make their full impression; and the impres¬ 
sion is distinct and lasting. 

But if these smaller habits are so bad, what 
shall I say of snuff-taking, and its consequences ? 
What shall I say, especially, of snuff-taking in a 
lady who is cooking for the family ? But a word 
to the wise should be sufficient, and here I leave 
the subject, only regretting the painful necessity I 
felt of introducing it. 


CHAPTER XV. 


ORDER AND METHOD. 

Order, heaven’s first law. Importance to the house-keeper. 

Book-learning. Prejudices against it. Story of Fidelia. 

Consequences of disorder. 

“ Let all things be done decently and in order,” 
is the injunction of an inspired penman ; and a 
highly distinguished poet has pronounced order to 
be the “first law” of Heaven. But however it 
may be in the economy of heaven, of one thing 
we may be certain, which is, that it is exceedingly 
important on earth. There is no employment 
whatever—be it ever so trifling—in which it is not 
of the first importance to preserve a due degree 
of order. 

But valuable as order is, it is nowhere more so 
than to the house-keeper. She who has no regular 
method of doing things, and who observes no order 
in her proceedings, will accomplish very little, in 
comparison with those who are more orderly. 

Every one indeed has some method of doing 
things, whenever they are performed; but the 
number of those who do things in an orderly man- 


ORDER AND METHOD. 


123 


ner is, 1 fear, rather small. I am led to think it 
is so, from observation. I see industrious, hard¬ 
working women, toiling like slaves all day long, to 
perform an amount of labor that I am fully per¬ 
suaded many others, of no greater strength, would 
perform equally well in half the time. I say I see 
this, not occasionally , but often. I see it, in fact, 
everywhere ; but especially in the houses of the 
middling and the poor. 

Mrs. Child’s “Frugal Housewife,” with a por¬ 
tion of our American community, has probably 
had a salutary influence, in this respect. There 
are those who are willing to cultivate order and 
method in housewifery. They are willing to do 
it merely for their own convenience. They are 
willing to do it for the sake of economy. They 
are willing to do it, moreover, for the sake of their 
husbands. I rejoice that the number of such per¬ 
sons is greatly increasing; and that the army of 
those who choose to remain in ignorance is rapidly 
diminishing. 

Still there are those who are as yet held in 
chains by prejudice. They do not believe in this 
book-learning, as an aid to housewifery, they tell 
us ; and so they shut up the avenues to improve¬ 
ment from that source. Others, still more numerous, 
suppose their own methods are the best which can 
be devised ; and only pronounce others excellent, 


124 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


in proportion as they conform to or resemble their 
own. 

As to order, a large portion of our community 
seem to me to have no order at all, except border. 
Nor will they be persuaded to any other. We 
may lay it down here as a general rule, that they 
who do business most at hap-hazard, and with the 
least regard to order, will be found to have imbibed 
the strongest prejudices against it, and to be least 
favorably disposed towards method and order both. 

Fidelia is a young wife of a different description. 
She has a small family to take care of, consisting 
of her husband, herself, a hired man, and two 
small children. She forms her plan, in part, the 
preceding evening—but it is only in part. At five 
o’clock in the morning, she is up, planning her 
work for the day, which usually takes up a consid¬ 
erable time. But it is all planned; there is no 
mistake about it. There is a place, in her plan, 
for every kind of business which can possibly come 
up during the day; and everything is done at its 
time and in its place. By rising early, she gets 
before her business ; and then it is not at all diffi¬ 
cult for her to keep before it all day. She has 
time even for occasional interruptions, should they 
happen. 

Those who will neither form their plans during 
the previous evening, nor rise early to do it in the 


ORDER AND METHOD. 


125 


morning, must continue to suffer the consequences. 
Happy would it be if none but themselves were 
sufferers. Happy would be the condition of some 
husbands, could they escape the disorder produced 
by disorderly wives, and breathe freely once more 
their native element. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


PUNCTUALITY. 


Punctuality lengthens life— is indispensable. Its influence 
on others. Various forms of punctuality. Anecdote. Re¬ 
flections. Case of the farmer. The wife’s excuses. Real 
•state of the case. Appeal to those whom it concerns 

One of the more important of the common 
duties of a wife is punctuality. To so great an 
extent does her own happiness, as well as that ol 
her husband, depend upon it, that I have sometimes 
wondered how any woman of good sense could 
overlook it. Yet nothing is more common. 

It is almost in vain that you regard method and 
order, if you disregard punctuality. You may plan 
ever so well—you may have everything properly 
arranged, so far as mere theory is concerned, in 
the very best manner—you may even perform 
everything, when yoXi do once attend to it, in the 
best possible manner ;—and yet if a want of punc¬ 
tuality be a predominating trait in your character, 
you will wear away much of life to little purpose. 
It is verily believed that the lives—the real lives— 
of people, vary in length, where years are equal, 


PUNCTUALITY. 


127 


from one fourth to one third of the period com¬ 
monly allotted. < 

Besides, were there no actual loss to the house¬ 
keeper herself, there is great loss to those around 
her. They catch her example. They lose by 
her delay. Their tempers are disturbed by her 
mismanagement. This last remark is especially 
applicable to the husband. Many a young hus¬ 
band has been greatly discouraged by his wife’s 
want of punctuality ; and some have been com¬ 
pletely ruined. 

There are various forms in which this defect of 
character appears. One of its prominent forms, in 
a young house-keeper, is in regard to the prepara 
tion of meals. This subject may be illustrated 
by the following example, rewritten from another 
work of the author. It is the story, or rather the 
complaint, of a young husband about his wife ; 
and may afford to many a person a valuable hint. 

My companion, says the complainant, is one of 
the best women in the world, except in one single 
thing—she is wanting in punctuality. In this 
point, in relation to everything, she utterly fails. 
If there be an appointment—a specified hour—no 
matter for what purpose, whether for rising, meals, 
rest, performing a job of work, calling on a friend, 
or even attending to religious duties or services—she 
is never ready at the time. She hurries and frets 


128 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


and vacillates, and yet she is always too late, do 
what she will. Now, excellent as is her character 
in all other respects, and invaluable as she is as 
a companion, as a friend, and even as a house¬ 
keeper, this single thing—this single point of fail¬ 
ure—embitters all my happiness, and greatly di¬ 
minishes her own. 

1 am most troubled by her want of punctuality 
in regard to meals—breakfast, in particular. I am 
a sort of literary man. I am in the habit of rising 
at five o’clock throughout the year. My wife lies 
much later; and we do not pretend to have break¬ 
fast till eight o’clock. The lateness of the hour 
occasions very little inconvenience. I know indeed 
that it is better to take breakfast soon after we 
rise ; but habit will soon accustom us to wait three 
hours, without any immediate inconvenience, and 
perhaps without any considerable degree of suffer¬ 
ing which is more remote. 

The precise time of breakfasting, I say, then, I 
care very little about, provided I can have a set 
time, and not depart from it. But herein consists 
the trouble of which I was going to speak. 

Though I have told my wife, perhaps a hundred 
times, how the matter is—though l'have given her, 
again and again, every reason why it is indispensa¬ 
ble, in my business, that breakfast should be ready 
precisely at the time, and though it is now nearly 


PUNCTUALITY 


129 


nine years since I have been laboring to get things 
right in this respect, I do not see but I am just as 
far from having attained my object as I was nine 
years ago. 

I have told her, always, that I had no very 
strong objection to having breakfast ready at a few 
minutes before the time, but it ought never to be 
a minute later. I have told her of the advantages- 
she herself would derive from forming a habit of 
punctuality, and that I thought she might as well 
begin with being punctual in regard to breakfast as 
in anything else. 

She understands, fully, my reasons, and the 
weight of my arguments, and sometimes makes, 
promises—sincere ones, too, I have no doubt—oi 
reformation. Perhaps she succeeds in keeping 
her promise for a day or two—I believe she has 
done so once ; but such is the tyranny of habit, 
that she soon slides into the old track again—and 
instead of having breakfast upon the table at 
eight, it does not arrive till three, five, ten, and' 
sometimes nearly fifteen minutes afterward. 

What grieves me most is, that my poor wife 
herself suffers a great deal on my account, although 
her suffering—like many other sufferings from sin— 
does not tend at all to her reformation. She goes 
on just as before. She is up late, has the tea on 
the table late, and everything late. At last, before 
9 


130 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


she hardly thinks of it, and before breakfast is half 
ready, she perceives that it is within a few minutes 
of eight o’clock. 

As soon as she perceives that the clock is about 
to strike eight, she begins to fret and hurry herself, 
and all others concerned ; and in flying from place 
to place to get just so many plates, and cups, and 
saucers, and knives, and forks, and spoons, she not 
only knocks down chairs, and perhaps breaks one 
or two, but throws down one or two of the chil¬ 
dren, who immediately set up an outcry, which 
renders the “ confusion worse confounded ” than 
before. Moreover, she gets so much excited, not 
to say fatigued, in the scrape, that she loses half 
the comfort of her own breakfast. 

How many times have I told her, that if she 
could not get breakfast ready at eight without so 
much trouble, I was quite willing she should fix 
the hour at half past eight, or even at nine. But 
no, that will not do, she thinks. Half past eight, 
or especially nine, would be an unfashionable hour; 
and what would people say about it ? 

I do not suppose, by the way, that it would 
mend the matter at all, if the hour was put a little 
later; for if it were at nine, or even at ten, she 
would probably—such are her nature and habits— 
be just about as much later than the time appointed 
.at she now is. 


PUNCTUALITY. 


131 


I have lately tried a new plan. We confine 
ourselves almost entirely to bread for our morning 
meal; or at least to a single article—as bread, or 
rice, or potatoes. We do it partly, indeed, from 
principle—because we believe it to be best; but 
partly, too, in order to lighten the task of my poor 
wife, and enable her to be punctual about getting 
ready the breakfast. One set of plates, and a sin¬ 
gle set of knives and forks, are all the furniture 
which our plain arrangements require. At least, 
this is the plan which we have pursued for the last 
six months. And as we are temperance folks, and 
drink nothing but water at our meals, this saves 
the trouble of “ boiling the tea-kettle,” or making 
either tea or coffee. 

I have also, again and again, offered to hire a 
girl—much as I hate the practice of having domes¬ 
tics in the family ; but my wife says—and I think 
justly—that it would not mend the matter at all, 
if I should; and that a girl would hinder her just 
about as much as she would help her. I have 
offered to confine myself to a single article—a piece 
of bread, or some bread and milk, or anything 
else—anything, in short, to secure punctuality— 
but all to no purpose. And now, sir, what is to 
be done ? 

A frightful exhibition this, reader, of the evils 
which flow from a want of punctuality. But this 


132 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


is only a single case-, or rather a part of a case. 
Here is only a single person perplexed and com¬ 
pelled to lose time. I have seen the evil greater— 
at least it was more sensibly felt—among our far¬ 
mers and mechanics, than anywhere else. 

I have seen, many a time, a farmer with his six 
or eight or ten or twelve hired laborers, or a master 
mechanic with a large number of journeymen and 
apprentices, made to wait five, ten or fifteen min¬ 
utes for their dinner, when they were in a prodi¬ 
gious hurry, and grudged every moment of the 
time they were obliged to wait. How must the 
young wife of the employer feel, in such circum¬ 
stances ? Does she not know the vexation of her 
tiusband ? He was to come at half past twelve, 
with his workmen, and she knew it. Why then 
is not the dinner in readiness ? It ought to be. 

She will say that the pot would not boil, or 
she was absent a few moments, and the fire went 
down, or she mistook the time ; or she w ill make 
some other equally frivolous excuse. The truth is, 
she puts off everything till the very last moment, 
as do nearly all people who are wanting in punc¬ 
tuality. They will not start for church, when it 
begins at ten, till the clock strikes—and then per¬ 
haps all is hurry and confusion of mind, no less 
than of body, till they get there ; nor are they then 
fit for the services, such of them as remain. They 


PUNCTUALITY. 


133 


will not send their children to school, till the hour 
has actually arrived when they ought to be there. 

The truth is, after all, that these persons who 
are so wanting in punctuality, are either wanting 
in one thing more, viz., conscientiousness, or else 
they are not yet really convinced of their error. 
To those who are wanting in conscientiousness, I 
have nothing to say; for I should despair of doing 
them much service. They will say, yes, and 
promise reformation; and yet go their way and 
forget what manner of persons they are, and what 
promises they have made of reformation. 

But to those who are not yet fully convinced 
of the importance of punctuality, and who regard 
the individual who insists on it as a cardinal virtue, 
to be a man of whims, or a dealer in little things, I 
would put the following questions. 

Have you properly considered how easy a thing 
it is to be punctual, if you really desire to be ? 
Suppose you are to meet another person at twelve 
o’clock, is there any difficulty in being on the spot 
five or ten minutes before the time ? Nelson was 
on the spot always fifteen minutes before the time ; 
are your moments more valuable than his ? If the 
school commences at nine, is there any serious 
difficulty of having your children there at the time ? 
If breakfast is to be at eight, is there any difficulty 
in the way of having it ready five minutes before 


134 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the time ? Your plan is to have it ready at eight, 
but you are too late by only five to fifteen minutes; 
—you always have it ready by that time. Why 
not fix the hour at a quarter past eight, and then 
it would always be ready at that time; or if it 
were ready a little sooner, you might wait till that 
time, unless all the company should chance to be 
present. Or if eight must still be the hour for 
sitting down, why not form your own plan to have 
all ready at a quarter before eight ?—and then, of 
course, it would be ready at eight . Or are you 
so enslaved to hot food, as to prefer to go without 
your meal rather than run the risk ol having it 
stand till it gets a little cool ? 

Do you know how much is the value of the time 
of ten men, who are compelled by your tardiness to 
wait ten minutes each for their dinner ? Here are a 
hundred minutes of valuable time lost to them ; how 
much is that a month ?—how much a year ? I say 
nothing of the vexation, but only the pecuniary loss. 

If any persons who have read the foregoing 
remarks still think that I lay too great stress on 
little matters, I only wish they may be led to take 
a fair and impartial view of the matter, and of the 
consequences that, everywhere in society, flow 
from a neglect of punctuality ; not in the mere 
matter of eating, &,c., but in all the ordinary con¬ 
cerns of social and domestic life. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


EARLY RISING. 

The young wife should rise early. Means of forming the 

habit. ■ Retire early—with a quiet stomach—a quiet mind. 

Resolve strongly. Early training. Mr. and Mrs. Clifford. 

Samuel Sidney. Reflections. 

The young wife should be an early riser. Early 
rising is, indeed, a prominent duty of all; but it is 
especially incumbent on those who influence, direct, 
and control a family—even if that family consist 
of no more , than the wife and her husband. For 
it sometimes happens that the husband needs the 
example of his wife to rouse him. There are those 
who never learn this important habit till they learn 
it of their wives ; and wo be to those who lose, by 
the indolence of the latter, this only remaining 
chance of reformation. 

I trust I need not dwell, here, on the importance 
of early rising, in the abstract. This matter, as it 
appears to me, has been treated with sufficient 
ability and minuteness elsewhere. I know not 
how any person can resist the united arguments in 
favor of the practice. I know not how a conscien- 


136 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


tious person—especially a Christian—can continue 
to lie in bed late in the morning, when he knows 
perfectly well that it is injurious to his health, that 
it involves an actual loss of pleasure, and a great 
waste of time and property. 

But how shall one who has been trained other¬ 
wise acquire this invaluable habit ? 

1. She should retire early the previous night. 
Whatever number of hours she allots herself— 
whether six, seven or eight—let her by all means 
be in bed and asleep soon enough to give her that 
number of hours for actual sleep, before the arrival 
of the period at which she proposes to rise. If 
she proposes to rise at four o’clock, and believes 
she needs seven hours for sleep, let her be sure 
of being in bed so much before nine as to be sound 
asleep by that hour. 

There are many, who, in the last mentioned 
circumstances, would never think of going to bed 
till the clock had actually struck nine. Then 
something remains to be done, and perhaps is done 
in a hurry; and it is doubtful whether the indi¬ 
vidual gets to bed before half past nine, or to 
sleep before ten. Now this will never do. No 
person will, in this way, ever acquire the habit of 
rising at his appointed early hour. That order 
and method which I have recommended in a pre¬ 
ceding chapter, must come in here, to prevent any 


EARLY RISING. 131 

such delay or protraction of the evening labors as 
shall stand in the way of going to bed quietly at 
the proper time. 

2. She should retire with a quiet stomach and 
nervous system. She must not think to eat a 
hearty supper, one, or two, or even three hours 
before she retires; for though a meal of wholesome 
and proper food may be digested, and the stomach 
emptied, in three hours in the morning, it may 
not be so in the evening, when we are fatigued. 
She must not only avoid a late hearty supper, but 
she ought indeed to avoid taking anything what¬ 
ever, unless it be water, for at least two or three 
hours before retiring. The person who retires by 
nine, should not take supper later than six. She 
should especially avoid, at this hour, things which 
are indigestible, or otherwise improper. 

The observance of this last rule may exclude 
her, if she lives in the city, from convivial parties 
in the evening, which begin at a late hour. Now 
there is no sort of objection to having a few neigh¬ 
bors meet in the evening, for social conversation or 
other purposes, provided they do not continue so 
late that it interferes with their usual hour of retir¬ 
ing ;—on the contrary, I think it may be highly 
conducive to health and happiness. But the grow¬ 
ing custom of our cities—and I fear the custom is 
extending beyond the city—of having large parties 


138 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


which do not commence before eight or nine 
o’clock, and which include oysters, or “ tongues,” 
or wine, or all these and many more abominations, 
is one that should not be so much as named in a 
community of people calling themselves Christians ; 
even if it be encouraged—as I hear it is in some 
instances—by those who have reputation and in¬ 
fluence.* 

3. She should retire with a quiet mind. Now 
the convivial parties, and the refreshments—so 
called—which they furnish, and the state of the 
nervous system and brain which they induce, have 
most undoubtedly a powerful agency in producing 
mental inquietude, or at least in discomposing and 
disturbing the mind. The very excitement of a 
large company, if nothing improper is taken into 
the stomach, will do this. But when food is taken 
at this late hour, and after a previous evening 
meal, and when wine, and above all, those com¬ 
mon narcotic medicines, tea and coffee, are used, 


* I know what is the common defence of these enormities. 
I know we are told how fully employed people are during 
the day, and how seldom they would associate were it not 
for this custom. But they have no right, as Christians, to be 
thus constantly employed, in the first place; and in the 
second place, the practice defeats its own object, by seeming 
to give people full license to keep aloof from each other at 
all other times. There are no greater real strangers to each 
other than those who attend fashionable parties. 


EARLY RISING. 


139 


the mental excitement, and consequent mental in¬ 
quietude, are greatly increased. 

There may, however, be an excited mind from 
causes independent of all these. There may be 
cares of the family, or cares of some other kind, 
which are preying upon the brain and nervous 
system, and which, if they permit sleep, do not 
permit that which is truly quiet, sound and refresh¬ 
ing. It is disturbed by dreams ; or, still worse, it is 
broken by nightmare, or by nervous twitchings or 
spasms ; and we rise unrefreshed and unhappy. 

Nothing is more common than for people to rise 
in the morning with bad feelings in the head or 
stomach, or with a bad taste in the mouth. And 
yet nothing is more certain than that whenever 
this does happen, there has been some dietetic 
error—something wrong in eating or drinking, or 
both. The causes may, indeed, in part, lie a 
great way back, in errors which were at least 
begun months or years before ; and which it may 
take months and years of a correct course to cure. 
But error there must have been, I say again, 
somewhere. 

4. The young mistress of a family, who desires 
not only to do her own duty thoroughly to God 
and her fellow men, but to set a worthy example 
to her family, and to begin that example betimes, 
must not only attend to all the suggestions of the 


140 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


preceding paragraphs, but she must go to bed 
with a strong determination to awake early, and 
with confidence that she shall do so. She must 
almost, in this respect, hope against hope. And 
when the morning—her hour of the morning— 
comes, she must not indulge herself in another 
moment of sleep. The plea of the sluggard—a 
little longer—must not be so much as made or 
thought of. No matter how poorly you have 
slept—unless in extraordinary cases of disturbance 
by fire, accident, sickness, &c.—nor how your head 
feels, nor how badly your mouth tastes ; quit the 
bed instantly. The truth is, that this lying and 
dozing, which so many people crave and allow 
themselves in the morning, does not cure the bad 
taste of the mouth, or the bad feelings of the head ; 
or if it does, it does not prevent their future recur¬ 
rence. No, you must bound out of bed instanta¬ 
neously, as soon as you have the least conscious¬ 
ness of your situation. 

These last suggestions are of indispensable im¬ 
portance. No person who has,not been trained to 
early rising from the first, will ever become an 
early riser—and yet rise cheerfully—without going 
to bed with a strong determination to spring up at 
the instant of waking. Nor must she be satisfied 
with repeating this once, or twice, or a dozen times. 
It must be persevered in till it becomes habitual. 


EARLY RISING. 


141 


Happy indeed is she who has been trained to 
early rising from her infancy; who has never 
known, in this respect, the bitterness of repentance, 
or the trouble of reformation. Still there is a plea¬ 
sure to be obtained by rising above the contrary 
habit, of which the sluggard never dreamed. 

Serena was always a late riser. She was trained 
to late rising. Do you ask if she was taught it 
directly ? Oh, no. By example then ? No. Exam¬ 
ple and precept were otherwise. But she was, in 
her early life, always called up, arbitrarily. No 
motives were set before her for self-exertion ; no 
reasons for making her own will cooperate with 
the will of her parents. “ Serena, get up,” was 
all that was ever said, except that if she did not 
get up she was scolded. Now there is no surer 
way than this, that 1 know }f, for infixing in the 
minds and feelings of mankii d, a dread of early 
rising ; and yet, is it not very common ? And is 
not the frequency of calling up daughters, one rea¬ 
son why a greater proportion of them than of sons 
are late risers ? 

Mr. and Mrs. Clifford are perfect antipodes of each 
other, as to rising in the morning. Mr. C. is always 
up long before daylight. For forty years he has 
gone to bed almost as soon as the fowds, and risen 
long before them. His wife, on the contrary, late 
to bed, is always late to get up. Mr. C. is always 


142 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


calling her, and always fretting at her delay. He 
calls the children too from day to day, year after 
year ; but they, encouraged perhaps by the mother, 
delay in the same manner. 

He plans the business of the day early, and 
wishes early to begin it. Sometimes he tells Mrs. 
C. how it is the night beforehand, and says—*“ Now 
to-morrow morning you must be up early.’’ She 
half consents to do so. But she rose late, and 
instead of being before her business, that has been 
before her and pressing her all day, and at nine 
o’clock is still unfinished ; and from nine to ten is 
often the busiest part of the day. At ten, per¬ 
haps, or a quarter past, she gets to bed. But she 
tosses about with a half-crazed brain till eleven and 
sometimes till twelve ; and when she is called at 
five, she only half wakes, and “ feels so bad ” that 
she must lie a little longer. Well, here she is, half 
sleeping and dozing till six o’clock, when she again 
rises, feeling more miserable than she did at five, 
and more disposed to fret and to retort the charges 
which her husband brings against her. 

I do not know a family made more miserable by 
a single bad habit, unless it be in the case of one 
or two drunken husbands, than is the family above 
mentioned, by the mother’s late rising. 

In the first place she makes herself miserable. 
She is not unfrequently found repenting most bit- 


EARLY RISING* 


143 


terly of her error. But then she never seems to 
exercise a strong will—the first step towards curing 
it. Besides the bitterness of a kind of half repent¬ 
ance, she is always in a fret. By rising late, as I 
have before hinted, she gets behind her business, 
and is driven and harassed by it the whole day* 

In the second place, she makes her husband 
extremely miserable, and always has done so. His 
plans, if he forms any, are often broken up, and 
he feels that he loses the best part of the day, 
and of life. You will say, Why does he not go to 
work before breakfast ? He is a farmer, and a part 
of his fields lie at the distance of a mile from his 
house ; and it would be very inconvenient to do so. 

In the third place, this perpetual quarrel, as I 
might call it, has had a very bad influence upon a 
large family of children. Not only are they nearly 
all late risers, but they are fretful, peevish and bad 
tempered. In short, to repeat what I have already 
said, it is a miserable family. 

Could every young wife have before her mind a 
correct picture of Mr. Clifford’s family, as it now is, 
and be able to trace the effects so visible in it, to 
their causes, as I am, few, it seems to me, would 
hesitate to make the resolution to become, at all 
hazards, early risers. They would not think of 
evading the claims, in this respect, of a husband 
and family. They would not only regard early rising 


144 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


as an indispensable duty to them, but as a duty to 
God. 

Samuel Sidney is a thriving young farmer on the 
Green Mountains of New England ; but I would 
not give much for thrift obtained at such a sacrifice 
—the sacrifice of peace, domestic happiness and 
a good temper. 

When he was first married, he was extremely 
poor, and obliged to labor by the day for support. 
As his most usual employers lived at a distance, 
and as they expected moreover that he would break¬ 
fast at home, he used to urge his wife to rise and get 
breakfast seasonably. It was in vain that he told 
her of the importance of being at work early—that 
his employer sometimes even complained of his 
coming late, &c. She would promise to rise “ to¬ 
morrow morning ” in good season, if he would only 
awake her. Well, she was awaked at the appointed 
time, and an effort was made to rise. But the effort 
was feeble, and as the call was not immediately 
repeated, she soon began to doze again. Sometimes 
her husband used to awake her two or three times 
before he could get her up. In short, the breakfast 
was late, after every effort; and the husband lost, 
usually, from one and a half to two and a half hours 
of the best of the day for labor, besides trying ex¬ 
ceedingly the patience of his employer. 


EARLY RISING. 


145 


I used sometimes to wonder why he did not get 
his breakfast himself, as I once knew a mechanic 
to do, who had a very indolent wife; but he 
seemed not to think it possible. There is such a 
universal devotion to a particular array of table and 
table cloths, platters and plates, knives and forks, 
pots and kettles, and cups and saucers, in New 
England, that it seems hardly to have entered the 
minds of people that they can have a comfortable 
breakfast without them. 

But as 1 have already hinted, my friend Sidney 
has contrived to get along by his perseverance, and 
in spite of his wife, who still clings to her bed in 
the morning; and he is quite a thriving farmer. He 
has very little affection, it is true, for his wife or his 
children—having made money his great object. 

Were I to be asked what a man should do placed 
in Samuel Sidney’s circumstances, I would say— 
“ Get your own breakfast for a few mornings. You 
will not suffer—nor will your employer—if you eat 
from four to eight ounces of good bread, with per¬ 
haps a handful of berries or an apple or two ; and 
such a breakfast may be made without the din of 
pots and kettles.” But I seem to forget that I am 
not writing a book for young husbands. 

It is true that breakfast should be, as a general 
rule, a social occasion, in which much pleasant and 
agreeable conversation should be elicited/; and it 
10 


146 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


will be a work of self-denial for a husband to eat 
his meal in a solitary manner. But he would not 
probably be compelled to do so long. This natu¬ 
ral punishment of the young wife would probably 
soon work her reformation. She would not be willing 
her husband should go without his warm breakfast 
very long. Or if she had become so thoroughly 
divested of old prejudices, and so completely 
reformed in dietetic practice, as to believe that a 
cold or rather a cool breakfast was better for him 
and everybody else than a hot one, still she would 
soon get sick of eating alone, when a little more 
effort would give to herself and her children the 
pleasure and the benefit of her husband’s com¬ 
pany. 

I might mention a hundred cases which would 
show the young wife the importance of early rising, 
and the dismal consequences which often flow from 
the neglect of it. But it cannot, surely, be neces¬ 
sary. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


INDUSTRY. 

An anecdote. Motives to industry. Bible examples of this 
virtue. 

I was acquainted, a few years since, with an old 
gentleman and lady, both of whom were over 
ninety years of age. They had lived together 
seventy years; and yet their whole course had been 
one of the most untiring industry. They came 
together, at marriage, nearly as poor as John Bun- 
yan and his wife—that is, almost without knife, 
fork or spoon—and yet by hard labor and careful 
management, they have educated—I will not say 
well educated—-a large family of children, and 
acquired considerable property. 

They were, I have said, now over ninety years 
of age. And yet they were still at work ; the gen¬ 
tleman on his shoemaker’s bench, and the lady at 
her wheel. “But why do you continue to spin at 
your age, and in your easy circumstances ? ” said a 
neighbor to her one day. “ Ah,” said she, “ it is 
as much my duty to strain every nerve I have, to 


148 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


lay up property, as it is to go to meeting ; and that, 
not only as a duty to my husband and to society* 
but to God.” 

Now this old lady was partly correct, and partly 
in the wrong. It is indeed true that neither age 
nor circumstances should prevent our laboring all 
we can, without injury to our health, and without 
interference with other duties. But there are a 
great many kinds of labor in this world. Besides 
this, there are a great many duties devolving upon 
us not commonly called labor—duties to ourselves, 
to husbands, and wives, and children, and neighbors* 
and friends. He who should labor solely to amass 
property, to the neglect of other duties, would be 
very far from taking a course acceptable to God. 

1 rejoice to find persons of ninety years of age, 
working on and resolved to work on to the end of 
life; although I am sorry to see them actuated by 
so low and unworthy a motive as the desire to lay 
up property. I should be glad to have every person, 
especially every young wife, feel that every “ nerve 
should be strained,” as the old lady expressed it, in 
doing one thing or another. 

Spinning is so far out of date, that it might be 
useless for me to recommend it to the young wife to 
betake herself to her wheel any part of the day. 
And yet very few kinds of exercise within doors, 
are better for many of the class of females for whom 


INDUSTRY. 


149 


I am writing, than spinning wool, he., on an old 
fashioned wheel. 

Cookery, when perfonned on rational principles, 
is also a valuable employment in point of health ; 
and so are nearly all the various employments 
which, sixty years ago, devolved on our female 
community. 

But every female is bound to attend to the means 
of improving her health, as well as of cultivating her 
own mind and heart. She owes the same duties, 
moreover, to those around her, especially to her 
own children. She has duties to perform to the 
sick and to the well—to the young and to the 
aged; duties even to domestic animals. Very 
few of these duties are favorable to the laying up 
of much property, and some are opposed to it. So 
that while we commend industry—of the most 
untiring kind, too—we would neither commend nor 
recommend strong efforts to lay up property. 

Let her, however—to repeat what I have already 
said—be constantly employed. Let everything 
be done, too, orderly and methodically. Let her 
be punctual, eminently so, in the performance of 
all her engagements. Thus will she strengthen 
the hands and encourage the heart of her husband, 
and set an example that she will not be ashamed to 
have her children follow, and hand down to future 
and distant generations. Let her be industrious for 


150 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the sake of the good mental and moral effects 
which industry produces, and because it is the will 
of God concerning us, rather than because of its 
emoluments. These last are not indeed to be de¬ 
spised, even, by the housewife; but it is less safe to 
overlook them wholly, than to overrate them. 

It will be seen by the foregoing remarks, that 
while industry from proper motives is commended, 
it is not considered as necessarily a virtue. The 
adversary of mankind, the devil, is represented in 
Holy Writ as industrious ; none more so, unless it 
be those friends of man, the seraphs, represented to 
us flying through the midst of heaven to preach the 
everlasting gospel. And yet it is presumed no one 
ever thought of regarding the untiring efforts of a 
demon, in endeavoring to destroy and devour, as 
praiseworthy. And yet, must they not be so 
regarded, if industry is a virtue, independent of the 
motive which dictates it? It is industry in well 
doing which is commendable—not industry" in doing 
wrong, or even in the performance of anything at 
hap-hazard. 

To conclude. Our young housewife will do well 
to study the character of some of the excellent 
women of old, whose lives are recorded in sacred 
and profane history. Solomon’s description of a 
virtuous woman includes, as a prominent trait, 
untiring industry. I wish it were more read and 


INDUSTRY. 


151 


studied. Let females be industrious as she was, 
for the sake of pleasing God and promoting the 
happiness of their husbands and families, and let 
their industry be directed by wisdom, and we need 
not fear for the results. The following chapter 
will, it is believed, afford her many useful hints and 
directions. 


. , . y : r 

\ ‘ ' 

CHAPTER XIX. 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY 

Economy a word of broad meaning. Much of this chapter 
anticipated. Servants—their general employment to be 
regretted. Spirit of the times—illustrated by an anec¬ 
dote. American nobles. Servants cannot always be dis¬ 
pensed with. Seven reasons for avoiding them, if possible. 
1. They are unnecessary. 2. Costly. 3. Break in upon 
the order of families. 4. Create distinctions in society. 
5. Are bad teachers. 6. Practice anti-republican. 7. It 
is unchristian. Waste of time in cookery. What useful 
cookery is. Other wasteful practices. Morning calls. 
General remarks. An anecdote. 

The word economy is one of very extensive 
meaning, and in its largest sense, would comprise a 
wide range of female duty. It not only includes 
the judicious management of pecuniary matters, 
but the management, regulation and government 
of a family, or the concerns of a household. It 
might include, too, a due regard to the health ; 
but of the latter I shall treat in another place. At 
present, I shall endeavor to confine my remarks to 
what is usually and more appropriately called do¬ 
mestic economy, or the general management of 
household concerns. 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


153 


Much of what should otherwise have been pre¬ 
sented under this head, has been anticipated in 
the chapters on Early Rising, Punctuality, Order 
and Method, and Industry. She who rises late 
cannot possibly be a good domestic economist, 
however excellent her management may be in all 
other respects. A defect so glaring as this cannot 
be compatible at all with female duty. 

Similar remarks might be made in reference to 
punctuality, industry, order and method. So fai 
as these things are duly regarded by a wife, she is 
truly economical. But without these virtues and 
habits, she must fall greatly short of that point, 
even though she should possess many of the highest 
excellencies. But as these traits of character have 
been already considered, the range of my remarks 
under the head of economy will be somewhat 
limited. 

One of the first things which sound economy 
demands in a young house-keeper is, to dispense, 
if possible, with domestics, or servants. I am well 
aware that there are many difficulties in the way 
of doing this ; nor indeed will it always be practi¬ 
cable, at least in the present state of society. 
There was a time, in the early history of New 
England, when the mass of the people—excepting, 
of course, those who kept boarders, &tc.—had no 
servants from other families. Each family, if in 


154 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


health, performed its own household labor. But 
those happy days have gone by, and with them, 
much of the republican spirit and manners which 
then prevailed. We are beginning, strongly, to 
imitate foreign manners and customs, not only in 
city but in country—in the foreground of which 
is the fashion of having a troop of domestics around 
us. 

I know of many a family, even in some of the 
country towns of Massachusetts, who constantly 
employ from one to three hired females, when I 
am fully confident there is not the least necessity 
in the world for any. Had such families employed 
but a single servant, sixty or eighty years ago, 
they would probably have been laughed at. What 
then but a servile imitation of and devotion to 
Fashion, the reigning goddess, has produced a 
change so universal and so lamentable ? 

This change has not only affected the wealthier 
portion of our once frugal, and economical, and 
happy community, but those in middling and even 
low circumstances. You will often find the same 
spirit prevailing among those who are not fairly 
able to employ a servant regularly, as well as 
among those who employ fully half a dozen. The 
same, did I say ? I recall the expression. It is a 
spirit far worse. It is a tone and spirit and manner 
as much more lordly and haughty than that of those 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


155 


who are really the “ nobility ” of the community, 
as can be conceived. The housewife who is re¬ 
solved to ape the fashions of the great, will be less 
familiar with her wash-woman, whom she employs 
in her family once a week, than the mistress of 
half a dozen regular servants is with them. The 
latter fears not the loss of rank or dignity, if she 
converses with her domestics in a familiar manner, 
and appears to remember that they are made of 
one blood with herself; but the former, conscious 
that her hold on nobility is more precarious, is 
more fearful of losing it by any apparent conde¬ 
scension. 

The following is an example of that state of 
public sentiment which l have been attempting to 
describe. It is not a creature of the imagination, 
but is strictly and literally true, except that I have 
used fictitious names: 

Mrs. Williams keeps no servants, but the reason 
is that she cannot afford it. Her husband and she 
came together, about two years since, nearly as 
poor as poor could be ; and his present income, in 
a village of ten or twelve thousand people, is only 
about $300 a year. This compels them to live 
not only in a hired house, but in a mean, unhealthy 
and immoral part of the village—to occupy but a 
very small space—to dispense with tea and coffee, 
and to practice many other retrenc hments. 


156 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


1 say it compels them to do so ; but I do not of 
course mean that there is any actual compulsion. 
Mrs. W. is extremely avaricious, and would sub¬ 
mit to almost anything to save a dollar or two, 
with a view to her future aggrandizement; and to 
this end, is willing to deny herself almost every¬ 
thing which, in other circumstances, she would 
heartily desire. She will scarcely suffer her hus¬ 
band to buy a useful book once a year, or subscribe 
for a newspaper or magazine of any sort; and she 
almost grudges the postage on those which are sent 
them gratuitously. 

And yet she will not, if she can find any excuse 
for avoiding it, perform her own household work. 
But as she is not able to keep a regular servant, 
she employs a very worthy but poor woman in the 
neighborhood, one or two days in the week, to do 
her principal work—making a shift to get along 
with the rest of her labor by herself. 

But what crowns all, and what is the main 
object of this narrative, is, that she evidently 
regards it as beneath her dignity to hold the least 
conversation—even for a moment—with the lady 
she employs, except to say yes or no, or to issue 
her commands. And although the “ great work ” 
is performed, to save fuel, in the same room which 
Mrs. W. and her husband occupy, at meals and at 
other times, and although the hired lady is as really 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


157 


one of the nobility as herself, and much more 
so, she will no more let her eat at the same table 
with the family, than if she were of some othei 
race of animals ; nor will she permit her husband 
or others, if she can help it, to speak to her. She 
would deem it, as I have already said, a loss of 
dignity. 

Now this case, though it may be an extreme 
one, shows what sort of a spirit is fostered in the 
community, by the practice of keeping servants— 
by rendering it, I mean, the universal practice, 
without any reference to circumstances. It is not 
merely to impose upon us the proud, aristocratic 
spirit of the nobles of the old world, but one which 
is far worse. Where nobility is hereditary, no one 
fears that a little condescension will injure him. 
He may talk to a servant or a beggar, and yet be 
a noble, still. But as what I call nobility, here, is 
usually acquired, and may therefore be lost, our 
nobles are more cautious with whom they asso¬ 
ciate. And it is this cautious spirit, most observable, 
perhaps, in those who are conscious of their own 
ill desert, which makes republican nobles so much 
more proud, and haughty, and intolerable than 
monarchical ones. 

Let me not be misunderstood on this subject. Ii 
is far from being my intention to say, or to inti¬ 
mate, that all families, even in the country, can, 


158 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


as society now is, wholly dispense with foreign aid 
and assistance ; much less, that they can do so in 
the city. Many a young wife has been so trained, 
that to require her, at once, to perform the house¬ 
hold labor, even of her own small family, would be 
to impair her slender health. That system of 
training is indeed wrong which produces such re¬ 
sults, and it may perhaps be wrong to become 
the heads of families in such circumstances j but 
whether it is so or not, is a question which will not 
be discussed in this place. We are compelled, in 
some respects at least, to take the world and the 
things in it as they are. In circumstances like 
those I have just alluded to, in case of the sickness 
of one or more members of the family, and in the 
case of keeping boarders of any kind, or of sus¬ 
taining public houses of entertainment, I do not 
see how it is possible to dispense with assistance. 
The introduction of foreign members into a family, 
especially of the male sex, demands the introduc¬ 
tion of foreign aid, to perform the increased neces¬ 
sary labor. 

The following are some of the reasons why I 
could wish the young wife, who would consult 
true economy, to dispense, as much as possible, 
with servants: 

1. They seem to me, as a general rule, unne¬ 
cessary. Are not two healthy persons, of adult 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


159 


years, able to take care of themselves? What 
necessity of servants can possibly exist ? Have 
not some of the happiest and most flourishing 
communities dispensed with them ? Is it not true, 
even now, that the people of the United States 
enjoy social and domestic happiness just in propor¬ 
tion to their independence of foreign aid, in the 
management of their households ? 

2. They are costly. Even a strong British 
writer seems to admit that “ servants are great 
plagues ; ” and it is a pretty common maxim with 
us, that they are about as much trouble as they 
are worth. But they ought to be of very great 
real worth, in a pecuniary point of view, to coun¬ 
terbalance the immense evils they produce in other 
respects—some of which will be mentioned pres¬ 
ently. One writer, after a long series of estimates 
of the actual expense of servants to a family, in 
dollars and cents, thus remarks : 

“ Besides the wages, board and lodging of a fe¬ 
male servant, there must be a fire solely for her, oi 
else she must sit with the family, and hear every 
word that passes between them, or between them 
and their friends. Besides the blaze of coals, 
however, there is another sort of flame that she 
will inevitably covet. In plain language, you 
have a man to keep, a part, at least, of every 
week; and the leg of lamb, which might have 


160 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


lasted you and your wife three days, will by this 
gentleman’s sighs be borne away in one. Shut 
the door against this intruder, and out she goes 
herself; nor will she go empty handed. 

“ When I lived a short time in S-Street. 

following my habit of early rising, I used to see 
the servant maids, at almost every hour, dispensing 
charity at the expense of their masters, long before 
they, good men ! opened their eyes. Meat, bread, 
cheese, butter, coal and candles, all came with 
*?qual freedom from these liberal hands. Where 
there is one servant, it is worse than where there 
are two or more ; for, happily for their employers, 
they do not always agree ; so that the oppression 
is most heavy on those who are least able to 
bear it, and particularly on clerks, and such like 
people.” 

3. Employing servants breaks in upon the order 
of families. The general rule, as I have already 
said, it appears to me should be, for each family, in 
ordinary circumstances, to take care of itself. By 
what right, then, can one family claim part of the 
services of another ? And why should A. be en¬ 
titled to the services of a member of B.’s family, 
any more than B. is entitled to those of one of 
the members of the family of A. In other words, 
if a family is to be broken in upon, who is to de¬ 
cide whose it shall be ? Let it be remembered, 1 



DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


161 


repeat it, that I speak now of things as they gen¬ 
erally are. If a family is sick, the order of that 
family is already broken ; and whether they make 
the demand or not upon our charity, Christianity 
does. And if we break in upon families by re¬ 
quiring that a large number of boys—no matter 
whether they are apprentices, students, mechanics 
or manufacturers—shall board in one building or 
establishment, then must we break in upon the 
order of other families, in order to obtain aid in 
taking care of them. 

Divine Providence seems to have made the 
necessary provision, in all ordinary cases, for every 
ordinary exigency. If the sons of a family remain, 
after marriage, in the family of their fathers, oi 
what is the same thing, if the parents live with 
their children, each young couple will receive con¬ 
siderable aid, during their first years after setting 
out in life, from their parents. This was, as it 
appears, the patriarchal plan. The grand-parents, 
parents and children resided in one family, in one 
establishment, and thus they could render each 
other those services which the God of nature in¬ 
tended. I suppose it to be part of the divine in¬ 
tention, that the young should honor the old by 
cheering and sustaining them ; but can they do 
it according to that intention, if they are widely 
separated ? 


11 


162 THE YOUNG WIFE. 

1 repeat it, therefore, that the husband and wife, 
with the occasional assistance of the old people, 
can sustain their own families, for a time. And 
whenever the young family becomes somewhat 
numerous, and the cares of life begin to press upon 
parents and grand-parents, the labors of the older 
children begin to come in, and to be a valuable 
contribution. This is the way, I conceive, in 
which the great Author of nature makes provision, 
in a natural state of society, for all those services 
of others which, in ordinary circumstances, are 
required. 

Let me not be told, in reference to the patri¬ 
archs, that even they—Abraham, for example— 
had numerous servants. These were unneces¬ 
sary, and were often very costly to them. Who 
can estimate the mischiefs that grew out of these 
servants’ quarrels, in connection with the history 
of Abraham, in the separation between him and 
Lot, and the subsequent miseries of the family of 
the latter. 

4. Employing servants increases the distinctions 
already sufficiently apparent in society. The more 
servants there are, the less will there be of self- 
respect among that class of the community in 
general, as well as among those with whom they 
associate. They become more envious and jeal 
ous of the rich, and act more and more as spies 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


163 


upon them. And finding themselves less respected, 
they become gradually less worthy of respect. So 
true is this, that it is not uncommon for the mis¬ 
tress of an English household to keep everything 
locked up, to remove from them all temptation 
to pilfer. A female writer, of late, not only men¬ 
tions this circumstance, but apologizes for its sup¬ 
posed necessity. But we need not go to written 
authorities on the subject. We may know its 
truth from facts within the range of our own daily 
observation. Many a house-keeper will at least 
tell you, (if she does not quite accuse her servants 
of dishonesty,) that they are so wasteful she cannot 
trust them with anything more than she is com¬ 
pelled to do, from day to day, or from meal to 
meal. 

This is a most deplorable state of things. But 
deplorable as it is, it is a very common condition, 
in fashionable life. And what is still more to be 
deplored, it is everywhere increasing. 

5. Servants are bad teachers and educators. 
Some may wonder what I mean by speaking of 
servants as teachers. Yet, is it not well known 
that they are the most effectual teachers of all, 
who do most towards forming the character ? And 
is it not equally well known that, in many families 
where servants are employed, the latter, by their 
influence, do more towards moulding—shaping— 


164 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the young human being, than the parents ? It is 
not the instruction of the schools, or of set lessons 
or precepts at home, that does most towards 
making us what we are, in real character ;—it is 
the ten thousand little things of life, of whose 
influence we are usually unsuspecting. Now God 
has appointed the parents to be the educators of 
their own children. He has said, Train up or 
bring up your children—not delegating the task 
to other people—in the nurture and admonition of 
the Lord. How can a parent be willing to disobey 
this command, without the most imperious and 
even extraordinary necessity ? Yet, is it not true 
that every parent does this, who brings up his 
children where they are under the usual influence 
of servants? 

It was not my object to bring the charge against 
servants that, besides setting a bad example, they 
do sometimes inculcate, directly, such habits, and 
practices, and principles, as should make every 
virtuous parent shudder. And yet it can be 
proved. There are on record quite too many 
cases which go to show that many a son—to say 
nothing at all of daughters—has been ruined for 
this world, if not for the next, by the wicked (one 
might almost say diabolical) conduct of vicious 
domestics, and even in some few instances, by 
females. 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


165 


Nor is it to be forgotten, that servants educate, 
in a greater or less degree, the older members of 
our families. It is impossible not to be influenced 
more or less by them, be our age or circumstances 
what they may. Our food, our drink, the air we 
breathe, the clothes we wear, depend more or less 
for their excellence or want of excellence, on those 
who prepare them for our use. How much is the 
human character, at any period of life, though 
much more in early youth, affected by the quality 
and condition of the food we eat, the purity or 
impurity of the water we drink, and the proper 
ventilation and cleanliness of our rooms! So long 
as all these, and a thousand other things of daily 
occurrence, continue to modify our feelings, and 
ultimately to form or change our character, and so 
long as these matters are entrusted to the manage¬ 
ment of servants, just so long will it be true that 
they educate us. 

I know it may be thought, by many, that I 
carry these matters too far. But I am confident 
it is not so. Strict justice requires that they 
should be carried still further. I have heard it 
ably maintained, and, as I think, proved, that .no 
person but a wife or a mother ought to make the 
bread of her own family. And just as surely as 
bread is the “ staff of life,” that is, stands first in 
our family arrangements as an article of diet, just 


166 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


so surely is the sentiment I have advanced just 
and defensible. 

6. But the system of keeping servants in our 
families seems to me highly anti-republican. Is it 
not so ? Can it indeed be otherwise ? Do not all 
conscientious parents know that by having a class 
of persons about them whom they are accustomed 
to regard as inferiors, they are fostering in their 
own bosoms, as well as cherishing in the bosoms 
of their children, if they have any children in the 
family, a feeling which is as contrary to true repub¬ 
licanism as light is to darkness ? It is true that I 
am not here writing for the young mother ; but I 
wish the young wife to form no habits which the 
young mother would not be willing to follow. But 
is the latter willing to bring up a family of children 
with servants constantly before them, unless the 
necessity be obvious and imperious ? I care not— 
in this respect—how excellent their character, 
provided they are regarded as of inferior rank ; for 
if they are thus regarded, the anti-republican lesson 
is taught—and taught, too, in the most effectual 
manner. 

Impelled, as she supposes, by these considera¬ 
tions, a lady of my acquaintance proposes to dis¬ 
miss her domestics. Indeed, she says she has 
already done so. She has only retained a girl to 
help her a little ! It happens, however, that this 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


167 


girl is an individual of nearly one hundred and forty 
pounds weight, strong and muscular, and able to 
do the work of two common servants. And as if 
there were still some misgivings, the lady proposes 
to dismiss her too, before long, and suffer a very 
poor but respectable widow lady and her daughters 
to occupy the rear of the building, and do her work 
for her, and thus remove from her children the sad 
example of a distinction of rank.—Strange she 
cannot see that this does not mend the matter at 
all in point of principle ! The distinction of rich 
and poor, of superior and inferior, of dependent and 
independent, will remain in all its force, notwith¬ 
standing the name. It is a distinction of feeling, 
of which I complain most; and therefore it is that 
I am desirous of avoiding, to the utmost of our 
power, all those externals which lead to it. 

7. Lastly, I regard the practice of keeping ser¬ 
vants as unchristian. I have seldom known the 
temper or disposition of the mistress of a family, of 
her daughters, or of the servants themselves, im¬ 
proved by their condition. It may sometimes hap¬ 
pen ; but the natural tendencies are all the other 
way. It is a state of temptation, into which a 
Christian should not wish to be led. 

But again. Who has seen the servants kept at 
home from church on Sunday, and from the lec¬ 
ture on week days, to give place for the regular 


168 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


attendance of the master and mistress, without re¬ 
gretting the supposed necessity, everywhere preva¬ 
lent, of such a practice ? Can a custom be right 
which thus, in effect, robs so many thousands of 
our race of those privileges to which they are natu¬ 
rally entitled, as well as ourselves ? Do not ser¬ 
vants need the blessings of that gospel which is 
specially designed “ for the poor,” as much, at 
least, as their masters ? 

If special efforts were made by masters and mis¬ 
tresses to instruct, at home, those who perform the 
labor of their families, and to inculcate upon them 
that religious truth from which their arrangements 
exclude them elsewhere, the whole case would be 
altered. But this, we may be assured, will seldom 
be done, even by the best disciples of the Saviour. 
Its difficulties will almost always seem to be, for 
the time, insurmountable; and thus the whole 
subject will, in general, be neglected. 

The grand objection usually brought against the 
view I take of the whole subject is, that if the 
wife in every instance performed her own labor, it 
would prove the means of throwing multitudes of 
females out of employment. This would be the 
immediate tendency, no doubt. But this does not 
prove that a gradual reformation of the practice 
would be an evil. There was a time, in the pro¬ 
gress of the temperance reformation in this country, 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


169 


when it might have been said with truth that, if 
no one was henceforth to distil grain into whiskey, 
multitudes would be thrown out of employment. 
But would this have been a sufficient reason why 
a Christian should continue to be a distiller ? If 
not, then the mere fact that to cease to have ser¬ 
vants would throw a few individuals out of imme¬ 
diate employment, would not be a valid argument 
against such a course. That a few individuals 
must suffer, for a time, is of course a less evil than 
to tolerate a practice which produces great and 
general suffering through the whole community. 
Lay aside the practice of having servants, and do 
the work yourself, and you encourage a general 
state of things in which the persons now employed 
in the families of others, would have families of 
their own ; whereas, in the present state of things, 
the number of the unmarried is continually in¬ 
creasing. 

I would not have extended my remarks on ser¬ 
vants to such a length, had I not deemed it a 
subject of vital importance to the happiness—the 
real happiness, I mean—of every young wife in 
the community. Should she determine to do the 
work of the family herself, and commence house¬ 
keeping on this principle, she will take a great and 
important step towards securing her happiness for 
life. 


170 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


But there are many more things, of at least 
minor importance, which remain to be treated 
under the general head, Economy. 

She cannot be the best of domestic economists, 
who spends half her time, while awake, in mere 
cooking. That cookery has an important place 
among her duties, there can be no doubt. As lit¬ 
tle can it be doubted that great skill is required. 
The preparation of a good loaf of bread, and the 
art of boiling, in a proper manner, rice, pulse, po¬ 
tatoes, beets, turnips, onions, &ic., demand much 
more skill than is usually supposed. It was the 
saying of a maker of apparatus for schools, that 
almost any person could make apparatus which 
was complicated, but that there were few to be 
found who could make a simple thing. And 
there is some truth in the general principle involved 
in the statement. It requires as much skill to 
make good bread as to prepare any dish with 
which I am acquainted ; and there are few, so 
far as my observation of the matter extends, who 
understand, thoroughly and scientifically, this in¬ 
valuable art. 

Much time is spent by housewives in mashing, 
chopping, and bruising food. Every kind of food 
should be so left by cookery as to task, to their 
fullest reasonable extent, the masticatory organs— 
the teeth. And yet, is it not correct to say that 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


171 


three fourths of the effort spent in what is called 
cookery, has a tendency to encourage the teeth in 
indolence, or at least a waste of time ? 

Let us take a brief survey. Here is milk, a 
food comparatively wholesome, at least for chil¬ 
dren. Yet how much time is spent in making 
butter, cheese, porridge, custards, ice creams, he., 
which, to say the least, are no better food, for 
children or adults, than milk. Here is wheat. 
From this, instead of simple coarse bread, we 
make fine flour bread, cakes of every kind—some 
sweet, others only shortened—pie-crust, puddings, 
dumplings, toast, he. Instead of plain dishes 
from Indian meal, we torture it in various ways, 
and mix it with sundry other articles, and add to 
it butter, molasses, he. Instead of eating the 
simple boiled or roasted potato, we mash it, and 
add butter, pepper, mustard, vinegar, sauces, gra¬ 
vies or horseradish, and make it into bread, pies, 
and soups, or mix it with turnips or fish. Even 
the simple rice cannot be eaten, so we think, with¬ 
out butter, molasses, cream, milk, sugar or honey ; 
nor beans and peas without butter, pork, pepper 
or vinegar. Nay, even the apple must be changed 
by baking, roasting, grating, and making into pies, 
dumplings and birds’ nests.* Instead of eating 

* A species of pudding made bj scooping out apples hoi 
low, and filling them with other materials. 


172 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


simple meat, boiled, roasted or dried, it must be 
smoked, and covered with vinegar, pepper, mus¬ 
tard, horseradish, sauce or gravy, or made into 
pies, hash or sausages. 

Then in regard to drinks, instead of simple 
water, we have an array of instruments and ves¬ 
sels, and herbs, foreign and domestic, for manufac¬ 
turing, at considerable expense, tea, coffee, shells, 
chocolate, and so on ; and we have pitchers, tum¬ 
blers, and the like, for beer, cider, wine, and other 
more offensive mixtures. In short—for this is 
only a mere specimen—there are scarcely any 
limits to this department of human folly, nor to the 
waste of time which it involves, without adding 
one iota to the sum total—to the aggregate—of 
that pleasure or happiness to which man’s nature 
is originally entitled. On the contrary, it greatly 
diminishes both. 

Useful cookery, though a curious and important 
art, is not, by any means, complicated. It consists 
simply in preparing those substances which God 
has given us for food, such as the farinaceous 
vegetables and the fruits, in such a way as is best 
adapted to the most healthy condition of the hu¬ 
man stomach and general system. 

There is a great deal of female time taken up 
in useless, hollow morning calls, and in idle, un¬ 
meaning ceremonies. A great deal of waste is also 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


173 


involved in dressing in a manner which is as far 
removed from nature’s simplicity, as is our modern 
system of cookery. The material, as well as the 
fashion, not only of every kind of dress, but of all 
sorts of furniture, is such as to involve, first and 
last, a great waste of precious and invaluable 
time. 

There is no need of all this. It is pitiable—it 
is wicked. Woman was never made to be thus 
trifled with. Her influence is too pervading and 
too powerful to be expended-—three fourths of it 
at least, and probably nine tenths—in a mannei 
which is not merely useless, but rather quite inju¬ 
rious. We say again, therefore, still more dis¬ 
tinctly, that the waste of such a vast amount of 
female energy and time is not only bad economy, 
but an offence in the sight of Heaven itself. 

In the language of another work, whole years, 
in the aggregate, of every house-keeper’s life, 
might be saved for the benefit of her race. If 
the best food now known were in general use, 
and no other—and if cookery, whenever it could 
not improve it, were wholly dispensed with, 
more than half of the female labor now expended 
might be saved, to be devoted to the more 
glorious purpose of assisting in elevating and 
improving the hearts and minds of husbands, 
brothers, sisters and children, and the w'orld around 


174 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


us. We admit, most cheerfully, that as a means 
of producing vigorous minds and good hearts, a 
due attention to food, drink, clothing, &c. is indis¬ 
pensable. It is nothing less than the carrying on 
of one department of the labor assigned to woman 
by the Creator—the physical education of herself 
and of those around her. But to see a patient and 
laborious female spending nearly her whole time in 
ministering to the mere physical wants of man, in 
the various stages of his existence—infancy, child¬ 
hood, youth, manhood and age—and doing all this 
with the utmost cheerfulness, and without appear¬ 
ing to realize that God has given her a higher and 
nobler office, or at the least, without finding any 
time to perform its duties, is indeed most lamenta¬ 
ble. 

It was observed that woman plods on in the 
narrow, unworthy track assigned her, with the 
utmost cheerfulness. She does so; and I have 
never been more forcibly reminded of the power 
of habit, than when attempts have sometimes been 
made to emancipate her. I will mention a case 
which occurred once, within the range of my own 
observation. 

A lady of my acquaintance had a small number 
of boarders who were all “ temperance folks,” in 
the broadest sense of the term. They not only 
drank nothing but water, but they abstained from 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


175 


all or nearly all condiments, liquid food and mix¬ 
tures. They lived chiefly on plain bread, boiled 
rice, potatoes, beans, Indian cakes and puddings, 
milk and apples. Even these they usually pre¬ 
ferred singly, that is, one at a time, and cold. I 
do not mean ice-cold, but without much artificial 
heat. 

The result was, that though the lady was at first 
pleased with the idea of having almost nothing to 
do in the way of cookery, she at length grew quite 
tired of the plan. She had a very small family of 
her own, and she was utterly unacquainted with 
the means of cultivating or improving the minds or 
the hearts of even those. She had indeed neigh¬ 
bors to call upon, and friends to receive. Still 
she had a great deal of spare time left her; and 
what should she do with it ? 

There was another trouble. She was extremely 
fond of displaying her skill in cookery—especially 
in seasoning and mixing various sorts of food. 
She was fond of making cakes, pies, toasts and 
soups ; of displaying a great variety upon her table; 
and of sipping at many things, whether she ate 
much of either or not. But the simplicity of her 
boarders gave her little opportunity for the display 
of skill in her favorite department, besides that it 
left a blank in her time, and gave her hours of 
leisure that she knew not how to dispose of. 


176 


THE YOUNG WIFE 


How much I used to pity her, after I learned 
from one of her boarders her real condition!—for 
indeed she was deserving of pity. True, she was 
paid as much as if her labor had been greater ; 
but such were her habits of industry that this did 
not satisfy, without an opportunity to perform the 
labor, and to exhibit, from day to day, her skill. 

Now this lady’s case, after all, was not so very 
singular. I have heard others say—even those 
who had the care of children—“ Suppose three 
fourths of the time now spent by females, and 
wasted, as you call it, were really saved, what 
could they do with it? Would you have .them 
idle ? They are happiest in cooking ; they like it 
best; and that, I think, is their province.” 

And thus they embrace their chains; and say, 
practically, “ Let us still have our wonted slavery. 
Do not talk of emancipation. We shall have 
nothing to do, if emancipated. Better by far to 
remain as we are.” 

Reader, whoever you are, if you entertain this 
sentiment, be persuaded to remember, for one mo¬ 
ment, at least, that you have an immortal mind 
and heart, and that your husband has, too. Re¬ 
member that these minds and hearts need food, as 
much as the bodies they inhabit; and blush for 
shame that your sentiments contemn them as be¬ 
neath your care. Why, you ought to rejoice with 


DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 


177 


all your hearts, and thank the great Former of 
both your body and spirit, for every hour of leisure 
which, in his Providence, he gives you; and ear¬ 
nestly devote it all to the work of self-improvement 
and the improvement of your husband. Could 
you get through with providing for the physical 
wants of your little family in a single hour, and 
should your family never be any larger than it 
now is, you would not have a moment too much 
of time for a work as much nobler than that which 
has hitherto engrossed almost your whole attention, 
as the spiritual part is nobler than the phvsical 
tenement which it inhabits. 


12 


CHAPTER XX. 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 

Present state of things. Females ignorant of domestic con¬ 
cerns. A great mistake in education. Nature of the 
mistake. Cause of the pecuniary distress of our country. 
Example of ministers. Change or reform necessary. How 
it is. to be effected. By whom begun. The young wife 
to begin it. She should begin immediately. One serious 
difficulty. How to overcome it. Gradual reformation. 
Rapid progress, ultimately. Book learning. How far 
books are useful. “The Frugal Housewife.” “Bread 
and Bread-making.” 


In the last chapter, I have, for the sake of 
brevity, taken it for granted that the young wife 
understands thoroughly the common duties of do¬ 
mestic life ; and have, therefore, dwelt chiefly on 
the importance of her performing them in her own 
person, instead of delegating them—as many in 
these days are inclined to do—to other persons. 

But it most unhappily occurs that many a newly 
married lady is nearly as ignorant of domestic 
duties, as a child. Perhaps she is not more to 
blame for it than her parents. Still the evil exists, 
and that very frequently ; and a lamentable evil it 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


179 


is, too. And let the blame be where it may, it 
demands attention and correction. 

Let it not be supposed, from these or any other 
remarks of mine, that I place too high an estimate 
on the domestic qualifications and duties of a fe¬ 
male. Her intellectual, and social, and moral 
qualifications are, no doubt, of infinitely more con¬ 
sequence, in themselves considered ; but these de¬ 
pend so much on the proper management of our 
domestic concerns, that the latter, for the sake of 
the former, demand much more attention than 
they appear to me to have hitherto received. 
Writers on female duty have dwelt at large on 
almost every topic but this. 

I am truly surprised at the mistakes made, in 
these days, in the education of daughters. Nearly 
the whole of our females, in the higher walks of 
life—and not a few others—are educated in an 
almost entire ignorance of household work and 
household economy. They are taught everything 
in the world, rather than that in which, if in nothing 
else, they ought to excel, were it only for its own 
sake—but much more for its social advantages. 

This, I say, is the result of mistake, and not 
of intention. You will hardly find a father or a 
mother who will not regard it, in the abstract, as a 
capital error. And yet many a parent who ab¬ 
hors it in theory, embraces it in practice. 


/ 


180 THE YOUNG WIFE. 

How can she who has never seen her mother 
diligently employed in the management of house¬ 
hold concerns, be expected to understand them ? 
Can it be expected that she will associate with the 
servants, voluntarily, to make herself acquainted 
with such matters ? Or if she has even seen her 
mother engaged in domestic concerns, while she 
knew she regarded them as mere drudgery, and 
was miserable all the time she was employed 
in them, will she be likely ever to understand 
them ? 

How can she who is always at school—save 
what time she spends in eating, dressing, visiting 
and sleeping—ever understand and love the em¬ 
ployments of the kitchen ? Is the love of domes¬ 
tic life so congenial to our nature as to grow up 
uncultivated, and even in spite of cultivation ? 

I have no objection to books and schools ;—far 
from it. But the introductory school room, to 
the young female, is the kitchen ; and some of the 
first lessons are in making bread, making, mending 
and washing clothes, cleansing furniture, &tc. 

One cause of those seasons of pecuniary and 
commercial embarrassment, which have become, 
of late, so frequent and so distressing in our country, 
is to be found in the error in female education 
to which I allude. There are whole classes, or 
nearly whole classes of our community, with whom 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


181 


I 

domestic concerns—instead of being regarded as a 
means of promoting health and happiness—are 
considered as a grievance. Perhaps I ought not 
to select any one class, where the classes to which 
I refer are so numerous—but if I were to do so, 1 
would first select ministers. I would do so, not 
only because the error is with them quite promi¬ 
nent, but because it is propagated at a most rapid 
rate, by their example. 

How rare is it for a minister to marry a lady 
who understands, and above all, who loves the 
domestic concerns of a household ? There was a 
time in the history of our country, when daughters 
of .rank were trained like the rest of their fellow 
beings. At least, this was the case with a propor¬ 
tion of them, in country places. I have known 
many a minister’s wife, whose hands performed all 
the labor of her family, while in health. Nor was 
this labor incompatible with a good degree of men¬ 
tal improvement. It gave her a vigorous body, 
and at the same time, vigor of mind; and when 
she read, or meditated, or conversed, she was truly 
intelligible, as well as in earnest. 

But it is not so now. Ministers’ wives and 
daughters would be degraded—so says fashion— 
by domestic care. And as the clergy are—in a 
country where they have, and should have, very 
great influence—so, in no small degree, are the 


182 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


people. At least, what it is deemed disgraceful 
to their wives or daughters to do, is soon deemed 
disgraceful to the wives and daughters of others. 
And one consequence is, that what are thought 
the necessary expenses of families have increased, 
to an extent that is truly alarming. We are told 
about the evils of speculation—and they are in¬ 
deed terrible; but they are only as spots in the 
social horizon. The evils of extravagance in our 
houses, our equipage, our household arrangements, 
our furniture, our dress, &c, are as a thick cloud 
which casts a shade over the whole face of things, 
and darkens all our present and future prospects. 

Our country never will be happy, till the pres¬ 
ent tendency of things is changed ; till ministers 
and other professions and classes of men, set the 
example of honoring domestic labor; till every 
wife and daughter is taught to perform—and 
with pleasure and alacrity, too—the domestic con¬ 
cerns of a household. I do not say that if this 
change were effected—if every mistress of a family 
rose early, and, like the virtuous woman described 
by Solomon, applied herself diligently to labor, 
and taught her daughters to do and love the 
same—our country would at once return to its 
primitive happy condition. There are numerous 
other causes of present trouble to be removed. 
But I do say that this is one primary cause of 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


183 


the present suffering; and that we cannot have per¬ 
manently happy times, till this cause, among others, 
is removed. 

Now, how is the change to be effected ? Not, 
surely, by any one individual. No person has so 
much influence—at least I suppose so—that her 
example, alone, would accomplish the whole 
work. There must be multitudes engaged in it. 
There must be a general attack on a habit which 
is productive of so much social and moral mis¬ 
chief. 

But how shall the work begin ? Though no 
one can perform the whole of it, by herself, some¬ 
body must begin it. On whom devolves the duty 
and the task ? Who shall apply to the great mass 
of society that leaven which may gradually extend 
its influence till the whole is leavened ? 

It is true that the more influence a person has 
in society, the greater is her power to effect, by 
her example, a reform. Yet it often happens that 
the individual who might have most influence for 
good in society, cannot be enlisted in the cause. 
She is already employed on the other side, and 
can hardly be drawn off. Shall we wait for her ? 
What is our hope? What reason'is there for 
believing she will ever change ? Certainly none 
which is derived from the past. 


184 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


The conclusion is, then, that she must commence 
the work, who is convinced of its importance. She 
must commence it, who feels that it ought to be 
commenced. It is of little comparative conse¬ 
quence how slender or how unimportant her influ¬ 
ence. She can never know that her single exam¬ 
ple may not be the very point from which, as 
from a radiating centre, the work of social reforma¬ 
tion is to proceed. It is not necessary that she 
should know. Let her do her duty. Let her 
begin. Her example—the sacrifice—if she do not 
effect the whole object, cannot be lost. And it 
may, as I have already said, be the very hinge on 
which the whole reformation of society is to turn. 
A word, it has been said, may move a continent; 
—how much more an action; or what is more, a 
series of actions! 

She may find her success far greater than she 
anticipates. Though she may not be the wife of 
a minister, some minister’s wife may take courage 
from her example. People are not so ignorant of 
the true method of reform, as they are wanting in 
moral courage to begin it. There are multitudes 
who are almost ready to begin, by their example, 
if they dare to be singular. Some would begin, 
if they had but one person to accompany them. 
Others, in still greater numbers, would begin if 
there were two to join them. Others still, if the 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


185 


number of reformers were still greater. But the 
trouble is to find a person who dares to place her¬ 
self foremost in the conflict. Let this individual 
be found, and I hesitate not to say that the work 
of reform is, prospectively, accomplished. 

Let the individual, then, I again say, who has 
read the chapter which precedes this, and who 
feels that society is getting radically wrong on the 
subject of domestic arrangements and domestic 
management, resolve to begin, in her own family, 
the work of reformation. Let her resolve to begin 
it now. Let her resolve, too, on something more 
than a mere beginning. She must determine to 
carry it through. Her influence may not be felt 
in a month, or a year. People may regard it, for 
a time, as a freak. But when they see her going 
steadily on, from year to year, in her new course, 
their confidence will be increased, and they will 
venture to join her. 

If these remarks should be the means of enlist¬ 
ing the moral courage of but one young wife, and 
and of leading her to undertake, in her own little 
sphere, the work of reform, how great beyond 
expression will be my reward. And if that indi¬ 
vidual should be the means, under God, of effect¬ 
ing so great and needful a change in society, how 
great will be the reward of her labors and sacri¬ 
fices, both in time and in eternity. Nay, should 


186 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


she be compelled to stand alone through life—a 
thing which can hardly happen—she will have 
greatly blessed herself and her family, and her 
example will have its influence on those who come 
after her. 

There is, however, one important preliminary to 
her attempting this work of reformation. She must 
secure not only the approbation, but the cooperation 
of her husband. How difficult a task this may be, 
will depend upon circumstances. There are hus¬ 
bands who prefer that their wives should be mere 
dolls as long as they live, let the hazard or evils be 
what they may. There are others who would like 
the reformation, but will not be willing you should 
be over-active in it. In either of these cases, your 
condition will be almost hopeless. It is enough 
for you to have the rest of the world against you. 
To have your husband against you with the rest, 
would be a condition most unhappy indeed. If 
you can, by degrees, bring over such a husband 
to your own opinion, very well ; but if not, 
it is perhaps better that nothing should be at¬ 
tempted. 

But the majority of husbands, it is to be hoped, 
will need no arguments to induce them to coope¬ 
rate. They are, for the most part, if their profes¬ 
sions are sincere, ready and anxious to sustain you 
in all your efforts; and to do, with their own 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


187 


hands, not a little to encourage you, and to lessen 
the daily amount of your labors. 

Suppose, however, you are not only ready to 
begin the work of reformation, but to begin it 
immediately. How is it to be done? You have 
a servant, it may be, in your family. Shall you 
turn her away at once, and do the work yourself? 
Or will it be best to begin gradually? If you 
have never been accustomed to labor, a gradual 
commencement will be best and safest. Let your 
help remain, for a time, to teach you what you do 
not know, and to perform what you cannot do. 
If they dislike this—a thing not at all unnatural 
to persons in these circumstances—and gradually 
become very uneasy and unhappy, it will, of course, 
be better to dismiss them, and do the best you can. 
Your husband and yourself may manage, for a 
time, with very little household labor—putting out, 
as you probably would, your heavier work ;—and 
your strength and skill would be every day in¬ 
creasing. 

If you are anxious to make progress, and espe¬ 
cially at your age, your improvement, under the 
circumstances I have mentioned, will be exceed¬ 
ingly rapid. It is a pretty common saying, that 
people may become what they desire to be. This 
saying, if it be not true to the utmost, has a great 
deal of truth in it. If you have set your heart on 


188 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


becoming a thorough, experimental housewife—if 
you have taken it up as a matter of Christian duty 
to yourself and family, and if, above all, you have 
taken it up in the hope of influencing others by 
your example, your motives will be so numerous 
and so powerful, as to impel you onward with a 
rapidity of which, before this, you had no concep¬ 
tion. 

One reason why young girls, especially the girls 
of modern times, are so exceedingly slow in ac¬ 
quiring the art of housewifery is, that they have no 
powerful commanding motives to urge them along 
in the path of progress. Sweeping and washing 
and cooking are irksome, because they esteem it a 
drudgery; and they esteem it a drudgery, because 
those around them esteem it so, too. What won¬ 
der that, under these circumstances, they learn 
slowly, and, indeed, seldom, if ever, become skil¬ 
ful i Besides this, most girls think that they can 
quickly learn to do house-work, at any time, should 
their circumstances make it necessary for them to 
do so. 

I have said that your progress will be rapid, if 
you are determined on improvement, and are wil¬ 
ling to improve by personal experiment. You 
may, however, learn a great deal from the expe¬ 
rience of others. And this, I take it for granted, 
you will be willing, and even glad to do. I take 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


189 


it for granted you are not one of those who, if they 
cannot find out a thing of themselves, choose to 
remain in ignorance. 

There are not a few to be found, who are 
exceedingly prejudiced against learning from the 
experience of others, when it happens to be in a 
book. They are quite willing to learn from ob¬ 
servation, and even from conversation. Nay, they 
will receive, with great pleasure and confidence, 
stories of the experiments of ignorant and not very 
credible persons, when they have them by word 
of mouth; but the moment they see an account 
of an experiment in a book, let the author be ever 
so credible, they start back from it in disgust, and 
say it is book-learning, and therefore good for 
nothing. The cry against book-learning, in fann¬ 
ing and house-keeping, has had quite a run in thi* 
country. I hope, however, for the honor of human 
nature, it is now nearly over. 

Book-learning alone—that is, the written ex¬ 
perience of others, without the aid of our own 
experience and observation—is a very poor affair 
indeed. I should as little value a housewife or 
a farmer, whose knowledge consisted merely in 
the study of books, and who had no common 
sense, as I should a physician or a lawyer of the 
same description. Art improves nature ; but art 
without nature is worse than useless. In like 


190 


the young wife. 


manner, the experience of others, whether written 
down in books or not, is of very great value, to 
polish and improve and assist our own experience. 

I have made these remarks as an introduction 
to what I am going to say to the young wife 
whose education has been so defective, as to leave 
her ignorant on the subject of house-keeping. I 
would have her study the subject—and that, too, 
most thoroughly. Such works as the “Frugal 
Housewife ” are valuable, and will afford her great 
aid. But something more philosophical will still 
be necessary. She needs a profound knowledge 
of domestic chemistry, as well as of the intimate 
structure and laws of life, or animal and vegetable 
anatomy and physiology. 

Although the whole of our life does not consist 
in mere eating, yet our food, in its quantity and 
quality, has much—very much—to do with our 
health and happiness ; and the good housewife 
should pay special attention to this department, as 
one of great importance to a family. The books in 
this country—at least, all I have seen—which treat 
on this subject, embody so much of human experi¬ 
ence in the preparation of foolish or hurtful mixtures, 
that I am sometimes disgusted with the whole of 
them, and led to believe that they do more harm 
than good. And yet treatises on the important 
art of cooking, in the most healthy manner, plain 


DOMESTIC REFORM. 


191 


and appropriate articles of food—treatises, I mean, 
which are founded in true science, or are the re¬ 
sult of extensive practice, can never be too numer¬ 
ous. Among this class is a small work on “ Bread 
and Bread Making ,” lately published in this city, 
with which every house-keeper who undertakes 
the work of reform, either with a view to her own 
happiness or that of others, ought to be familiarly 
acquainted. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


SOBRIETY. 


Definition of the term. Something more than temperance. 
Tea drinking. Effects of tea and coffee. Physiology of 
their effects. Nervous excitement—compared with in¬ 
toxication. Proofs of the author’s views. Sobriety at 
feasts. Sobriety in company. Other forms of sobriety. 

Let not the reader startle, as if he supposed I 
was going to charge the female sex with the grosser 
forms of intemperance—with downright drunken¬ 
ness. Far enough from that. Not but that there 
are individuals among the sex who have sunk thus 
low—a few, even of those who are dignified with 
the sacred and responsible name of wife. But 
such cases, in our New England community, are 
so rare, and in general, so inaccessible, that I will 
not spend strength or time, at least at present, in 
dwelling upon them. Not one in ten would ever 
read my remarks, and not one in a hundred who 
did would be benefited by them. 

But there are some forms of intemperance, pro¬ 
perly so called, to which females—some too who 
are in general truly respectable—do not hesitate 


SOBRIETY. 


193 


to descend. There are even a considerable num¬ 
ber who use, or who countenance the use, as 
a beverage—which is nearly the same thing— 
of several sorts of fermented liquors. There are 
those who drink wine, cider and beer, and give it 
to their friends ; and there are also those who 
laugh at what they call the squeamishness or the 
ultraism—but which may, for aught they can 
know, be the conscientiousness—of those who do 
not. But I am willing to pass over this also, for 
there is another form of intemperance still more 
common, and in which most young wives with 
whom I am acquainted participate. 

I allude here to the use of coffee and tea, those 
common beverages of New England. I maintain, 
whatever may be thought to the contrary, that thf 
use of these articles, for any other than medicinal 
purposes, is neither more nor less than a species 
of intemperance. 

They excite the brain and nervoir system, just 
as other intoxicating liquors do. And what differ¬ 
ence does it make whether the excitement be 
produced by one drink or another ? If rum, gin, 
brandy, whiskey, cider, beer, coffee and tea are 
each and every one of them drunk for the sake of 
the excitement they produce on the nervous sys¬ 
tem, why is not one as much an intoxicating liquoi 
as the other ? 

13 


194 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


I do not mean to say that a single cup of tea 
or coffee, or a single half pint of cider or beer, will 
produce as great a degree of intoxication as the 
same quantity of rum or brandy—for every one 
knows better. But I do mean to affirm that 
people use these drinks chiefly, if not wholly, on 
account of the exciting or intoxicating properties 
they contain; and that no female who uses any 
of them freely can be, in the fullest sense of the 
term, a person of sobriety. 

Does any person believe otherwise ? Does any 
one suppose she drinks these beverages to quench 
thirst ? Does any individual believe she would 
drink them long, if their intoxicating or exciting 
properties were omitted, though the rest of the pro¬ 
perties of the beverage were to remain ? 

Much is said about their giving strength; and 
yet they make not—they never did make—a par¬ 
ticle of blood. There is no nutriment in tea or 
coffee—at least, so far as we consider them as mere 
drinks. But suppose there were;—we need not 
use them for the sake of that nutriment, since we 
could get the same or a much greater amount of 
nutritious matter, by eating a small quantity of 
solid food. 

But I say again, we do not drink coffee or tea 
for the sake of the nutriment they afford. We 
drink them to excite us. This excitement may 


SOBRIETY. 


195 


it is true, be mistaken by some for permanent 
strength. But it is not so. It is mere nervous 
excitement, and nothing more. It operates as all 
unnatural excitement does. It operates, in a 
greater or less degree, very much as fermented or 
spirituous liquors, or opium, or tobacco do. It 
seems to give strength ; and perhaps, by exciting 
the nerves or brain, or both, does so for a short 
time; but as it does not and cannot make a parti¬ 
cle of new blood, nor improve the condition of any 
particle already made, the strength it gives is quite 
evanescent. Indeed, it weakens us in the end;— 
not so much by taking away our muscular strength, 
as by weakening our cerebral and nervous systems, 
and diminishing the sum total of our nervous 
energy. 

When, therefore, I hear people say that they 
must have their tea or their coffee, or they could 
not work, they should faint, he., or when I hear 
them say that tea, at the close of a hard day’s 
work, rests and refreshes them, or takes away the 
nervous headache, or removes their drowsiness,— 
instead of hailing it as a messenger of good to 
mankind, I always shudder at the thought of the 
mischief it involves. And coffee is as bad as tea. 
Dr. S., a very distinguished physician of Boston, 
says it is worse, and that its use is one of the most 
serious evils in the community. 


196 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


It is true, people are sometimes faint with labor, 
and tea or coffee will restore, suddenly, their 
strength; but so would a certain dose—in some 
more, in others less—of spirit, or opium, or cam¬ 
phor. It is true that it rests them, when they are 
tired, and keeps them wakeful when they feel in¬ 
clined to sleep ; but it is also true that it ought not 
to do so. What they want is sleep and rest—not 
food or drink, nor any other refreshment. It is 
true, moreover, that tea or coffee may take away, 
for the time, the nervous headache, and promote 
digestion ; but it is equally true, that they leave 
the system, as soon as their first effects are gone, 
in a much worse state than they found it. In 
short, it is thus true that these drinks produce 
many of the effects attributed to them ; but they 
do it by inducing a species of intoxication. 

I repeat it, every one of these exciting drinks— 
and all kinds of food, especially all condiments— 
that removes faintness, gives a sudden appetite, 
restores immediate strength, removes headache, 
&,c., does it by a slight degree of intoxication. 
And can females use intoxicating drink, as a com¬ 
mon beverage, and yet be properly considered as 
persons of sobriety ? 

If any individual doubts the correctness of these 
views, let him watch the effects of small quantities 
of each of the drinks I have included under the 


SOBRIETY. 


197 


name of intoxicating liquors. Let him watch the 
beer drinker, the wine or cider drinker, the mode¬ 
rate spirit drinker, and the tea or coffee drinker. 
Will he not perceive the effect, in all, to be in 
some respects the same ? 

What is the difference, in nature, between the 
effects of two liquors, one of which is drank before 
a meal, and the other with it, while both loosen 
the tongue, fire the eye, produce mirth and wit, 
excite the animal passions, and lead to remarks 
about ourselves and others, that we should not 
have made in other circumstances, and which it 
were far better for us and the world, never to 
have made ? Is one sex to be regarded as in¬ 
temperate, in the use of an article which makes 
them talkative, while the other sex, excited in the 
same manner, and rendered talkative in the same 
manner, by the use of another article, is to be 
considered sober ? 

I am for encouraging social visits—ay, and so¬ 
cial feasts, too—if conducted on Christian princi¬ 
ples. Perhaps it is even desirable that woman, 
shut out of active life as she is, should expend a 
larger share of voluntary power than man, through 
the muscles concerned in speech ; but is it desir¬ 
able that she should intoxicate herself in order to 
excite her talkative or risible faculties ? And if she 
does so, must not every considerate person regard 


198 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


it as a manifest breach, not only of decorum, but 
of sobriety ? 

But this giddy, noisy mirth, as I have already 
intimated, may be excited by eating to excess, or 
by eating things improper to be eaten. The glut¬ 
tonous are as truly guilty of a breach of sobriety as 
those who abuse themselves by improper drinks. 

I have seen young married ladies who seemed 
to regard their new condition as a species of im¬ 
prisonment, and the duties of a household as mere 
penance. They would attend to them, perhaps, 
if they could not help it; but as to finding any¬ 
thing like enjoyment in them, they did not. They 
were only happy when they were skipping, romp¬ 
ing and capering, or at least gadding. Thei** 
levity even extended so far, in some cases, as to 
excite feelings in their companions against which 
it was their highest duty, no Less than their deepest 
interest, to guard. Here, too, was a want of what 
I call sobriety. There was the absence of that 
“ steadiness, seriousness, carefulness, and propriety 
of conduct ” which, in a young wife, are exceed¬ 
ingly becoming, and without which, I can never 
regard her as a truly sober woman. 

Sobriety, in short, is a word of extensive import. 
There are those who go not beyond the strictest 
bounds of propriety in the use of meats and drinks 
and company, who are yet very far from being 


SOBRIETY. 


199 


habitually sober and discreet. Nor is sobriety 
synonymous with gravity;—still less, with any¬ 
thing which approximates to melancholy. There 
is a happy medium between levity and melancholy, 
that, even in youth and middle age, falls somewhat 
short of that gravity, to which the young wife 
should aspire. It always pleases, cheers, improves, 
adorns, exalts. It is favorable to health, peace, 
social comfort, happiness and piety. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

DISCRETION. 

Paul’s estimate of the importance of discretion. Opinions 
of Gisborne. Various forms of indiscretion. Danger of 
extremes. What true purity is. A word of caution to 
the indiscreet. 

If the apostle Paul, in his letter to Titus, after 
having directed that young women should be in¬ 
structed to be sober, does not regard it as trifling 
to speak of the importance of discretion, it cannot 
certainly be amiss for me to add a few words on 
this quality, and on its value as a means of pro¬ 
moting and upholding matrimonial happiness. 

Discretion, says Gisborne, is not one of those 
virtues which come into practice only in singular 
conjunctures, under circumstances which can sel¬ 
dom happen to the same individual, and to some 
persons, may never occur at all. It is not a robe 
of state, to be drawn forth from its recess on some 
day of festivity, nor a ponderous cloak, to be put 
on to repel the violence of a thunder shower. It 
is to the mind what the every-day clothing is tc 


DISCRETION. 


*201 


the body. It is requisite, under every vicissitude, 
to health, and propriety, and comfort. 

Discretion, he continues, embraces every season 
and every incident of life. At home and abroad, 
in the city and in the country, with intimates and 
with strangers, in business and in leisure, it is vigi¬ 
lant, and active, and unwearied. It enhances the 
utility of virtue, and anticipates the allurements of 
vice. It attends to persons and feelings, to times, 
occasions and situations, and abstains from all ap¬ 
pearance of evil. 

This virtue is the more worthy of being incul¬ 
cated with earnestness on married people, because 
they appear, in several respects, to be in greater 
danger than the single, of being led by custom or 
hurried by inadvertence to disregard it. The giddy 
and the vain often indulge themselves, without 
reserve, in a freedom of manners, and a levity of 
conversation, from which this fear of incurring cen¬ 
sure and exciting disgust had previously taught 
them to refrain. Plunging with augmented eager¬ 
ness into the hurry of dissipation, and little scru¬ 
pulous as to the society with which they tread the 
circle of amusements, they take fire at each remon¬ 
strance of a husband, as a reflection on their char¬ 
acter, and feel the smallest obstacle to the career 
of their pleasures as an act of tyrannical control. 
Hence while the wife, on the one hand, relies on 


202 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the innocence of her intentions—and the husband, 
on the other, has not to charge himself with un¬ 
kindness or austerity, the secret springs of disquie¬ 
tude and grief, perhaps of indifference, of alienation 
of heart, and of incurable dissensions, are already 
opened. 

Is the wife then innocent ? Unquestionably not. 
Admit her giddiness and vanity to be no subjects 
of serious reprehension—no considerable deviations 
from Christian sober mindedness ; admit her man¬ 
ners and her conversation to have been clear from 
every imputation, except that of thoughtless im¬ 
prudence :—a heavy charge will yet remain. She 
has wounded the feelings of her husband ; she has 
exposed to risk the warmth of his affection ; she 
has laid herself open to the insinuations of calumny; 
she has exhibited a dangerous example ; she has 
trodden a most dangerous path ; she has hazarded 
her own happiness, and that of the person most 
dear to her, by a neglect of discretion. 

But the giddy and the vain are not the only 
married women who are found to be indiscreet in 
their manners and deportment. Some, whose feel¬ 
ings are not very refined, take scarcely any pains 
to preserve their discourse and behaviour as pure, 
and chaste, and correct, as it should be. They 
do not hesitate to dwell, in common conversation, 
on acts of misconduct and guilt, from the contem- 


DISCRETION. 


203 


plation of which a mind of innate modesty would 
at once recoil. They behave to their acquaint¬ 
ance of the other sex, with blunt and unrestrained 
familiarity. And some are even so blinded as to 
make their married state an excuse for laying aside 
that delicacy which they regard as an unnecessary 
formality. 

No doubt, the artificial reserve of former times 
ought to be discarded. At all events, modesty 
is not stiffness. There is, however, no little dan¬ 
ger of going to the contrary extreme. Odious as 
formality is, it is better—far better—to be deemed 
somewhat formal, than to be actually indiscreet. 
To imagine that a state of life in which your con¬ 
duct so intimately affects the happiness of another 
person should lessen your obligations to be discreet 
and prudent, is a most serious error. What can 
be more likely to wound the feelings or deaden the 
affection of a husband, than to perceive his wife 
daily paying less and less regard to those very 
qualities which so much endeared her to him before 
marriage ? 

It must not be. Marriage does not diminish 
female obligation in this respect; but, on the con¬ 
trary, greatly increases it. And there is one fact to 
be observed in these circumstances, which greatly 
enhances the value of caution. When we have 
once gone in the road of indiscretion, it is exceed- 


204 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


ingly difficult to retrace our steps. Many suppose 
that though there is no place of repentance to be 
found for indiscretion before marriage, yet the case 
is altered afterward. Now the greater evil of 
indiscreet or unchaste conversation consists in the 
transgressor’s own mind and conscience. These it 
is which are defiled. And this defilement is not 
confined to any state of life, married or single; nor 
is the mind, when once defiled in either case, easily 
purified again. The stain is apt to abide—some¬ 
times forever. 

I tremble for those who do not tremble for them¬ 
selves, in this matter. The error to which I refer is 
much more common among us than many persons 
are aware. If these remarks, and similar ones in 
the chapter on Purity of Character, should awliken 
here and there a reader to the importance of a 
course which will prevent the necessity of repent¬ 
ance, it is all I dare to hope. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


SCOLDING. 


Many kinds of scolds. Internal scolding. Intermittent 
scolds. Periodical scolding. Other forms of scolding. 
Hints over the husband’s shoulder. 


There are many kinds of scolds, as well as 
varieties of scolding. Some forms of the “ disease ” 
are indeed worse than others, and some ft patients ” 
who labor under it less tolerable than others. But 
all forms of the disease are really intolerable, and 
render those who are “ afflicted ” intolerable too, 
for the disease’s sake. 

Some scold outright. Their fits of peevishness 
are like the desolating storm or tornado, that sweeps 
over us, and is then gone—leaving a calm behind, 
which we even seem to enjoy with greater zest 
from the contrast. The wise mariner, however, 
will prefer the steady good weather to the alter¬ 
nation of storm and calm. 

Some scold internally. Perhaps they never 
utter a word which could be called downright 
scolding; and yet their eyes and countenances 
and actions tell the story. There are two sorts 


206 


THE .YOUNG WIFE. 


of these internal scolds. One sort always exhibit 
the outward signs of an internal and spiritual mis¬ 
er}"—the depressed and wrinkled brow, the de¬ 
pressed angle of the mouth, and the peculiar turn 
of the sides of the nose, which indicate, that if the 
features have not actually grown into a scolding 
state, they are in great danger of it. 

But there is another sort in whom the disorder 
has seasons of remission. Their countenances, 
though seriously injured, are not yet permanently 
contracted. There is yet space for repentance 
and amendment of life. These might be denomi¬ 
nated intermittent scolds. 

There are also periodical scolds. Some of these 
always scold in the morning; and as the sun 
advances towards the meridian, gradually become 
cheerful. Others begin their song towards evening, 
and are most effectually cured by darkness and 
sleep. Some scold at particular seasons, especially 
in the spring. Others still, it is said—but I will 
not vouch for the truth of this—scold most at par¬ 
ticular periods of the moon. 

There are also many sorts of scolds which can¬ 
not be so easily classed. Some habitually scold 
when they want a new dress. Others scold still 
worse after they get it, because it is faulty. Some 
scold because their scolding produces no effect, as 
it is said the wife of Socrates sometimes did 


SCOLDING. 


207 


Some, in the last place, scold because they do not 
know any better. They were trained to scold at 
times at the servants, and would no more think of 
getting along wholly without scolding than without 
eating. 

I counsel the husband who has married a scold— 
or would do so, if this were the place to counsel 
husbands—not to resort at once to the laws of 
divorce for relief from his unhappy situation ; but, 
if he finds his wife’s case remediless, to bear it as 
well as he can, as a just punishment on him for 
want of more foresight. And if his wife should 
fret herself to death early—for all fretting and 
scolding shortens life more or less—and a second 
should be resolved on, I counsel him to take a 
little pains to prevent that which he would after¬ 
wards give “ a thousand worlds,” if he had them, 
to cure. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


FORBEARANCE. 

Perfection not to be expected. Maxim of a philosopher 
Spirit of forbearance a pearl of great price. Cases where 
forbearance is required. Triumphing. “ I told you so.” 
Comparisons. Joking. Saying of Salzman. 

IVo quality is more frequently demanded in the 
newly married, than mutual forbearance ; and yet 
none, perhaps, are more liable to be disregarded, 
especially where little things are concerned. Many 
a wife as well as husband will exercise the spirit 
of forbearance in larger matters, and yet make 
most egregious failures, when smaller matters only 
are concerned. I shall therefore dwell principally 
on the latter. 

Settle it, therefore, as a principle, that perfection 
is not a plant of terrestrial growth ; and that it will 
therefore be in vain to expect it in a husband. 
Of the necessity of mutual concession, I have al¬ 
ready spoken. But there is an allowance to be 
made daily, and sometimes hourly, for each other’s 
failings, which falls far short of what we usually 
call concession. 


FORBEARANCE. 


209 


I believe it was Epictetus who said that to bear 
and forbear was the perfection of humanity. Be 
this as it may, it is a pearl of great price; and to 
none is it more so than to the young wife. If her 
expectations of her husband’s character and habits 
have been but moderately raised, she probably will 
not escape trials ; if they have been high, she can¬ 
not. It will be the highest wisdom, then, to be 
prepared to meet them—and to meet them in a 
becoming manner. 

You find your husband addicted to certain low, 
vulgar or awkward habits of conduct; and you 
find it next to impossible to break the force of 
them. You find him addicted, it may be, to bad 
language—or, at least, language which you would 
not prefer; and you are laboring to reform him. 
Sometimes you fear you make no progress, and are 
nearly discouraged—perhaps almost vexed. But 
in these circumstances, you should remember, con¬ 
sists your trial. Here it is, precisely, that you are 
called upon to exercise and to cultivate the spirit 
of forbearance. 

Sometimes your trial is still more severe. There 
are wives to whom their husbands seem to say— 
not in words, perhaps, but by their daily practice— 
|Now that we have you in our possession, we are 
resolved to make you submit to our own course. 
Nothing, perhaps, will more severely test your for- 
14 


210 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


bearance than this assumption, on the part of your 
husband, that might gives right. 

But what will you do ? Will you resent it ? 
Suppose your husband uses words which imply a 
determination to exercise the superiority which he 
claims; will you “ answer a fool according to his 
folly,” or will you bear and forbear ? 

Some husbands, to show their superiority, are 
always pretending to greater foresight than you, 
especially after an event has happened. It seems 
wonderfully easy for some people to foresee events 
after they have actually happened. “ Ah, I thought 
so,” or, “ Ah, I told you so,” many a husband has 
said to his wife, when, in fact, he knew no more 
about the event, before it happened, than the man 
in the moon. 

Even when, by our superior wisdom or better 
opportunities, we have actually foreseen an occur¬ 
rence or an evil, which our companion had not 
foreseen, it is not very agreeable to her to be told 
so, in the way of triumph. Hardly any little 
thing will so soon alienate the affections of a friend, 
as seeming to triumph over him. Zimmerman 
says it is dangerous to get the better in an argu¬ 
ment. And if you would have your husband 
avoid the frequent use of the little phrase, “ I told 
you so,” you must be careful, above all, not to set 
him a frequent example of its use. 


FORBEARANCE. 


211 


Avoid too many comparisons. Some young 
wives are ever comparing their condition with 
what it formerly was, with a view to show how 
much they have done and sacrificed for their hus¬ 
bands. They might have been the companion of 
one who lives in a splendid castle, or has risen 
to a post of honor or usefulness ; or they might 
have had a thousand enjoyments, by remaining at 
home, of which they are now bereft; or they 
might have avoided these or those cares, anxieties 
or trials ! You should remember, here, the golden 
rule ; and if comparisons of the kind would be 
painful to yourself, be careful not to give others 
pain in the same way. Every situation has its 
pleasures and advantages ; and since you cannot 
alter what is past, or at least, what is in its nature 
inalterable, this alone is reason enough why you 
should set a guard over your tongue in this respect, 
if not over your thoughts. 

I do not like to hear a wife say, “ You knew 
all this before you married me.” It may be true ; 
but husbands do not like to hear it often. It is 
better to forbear. Think twice before you speak 
once, even to him who values your society above 
all else. “ Behold how great a matter a little 
fire kindleth.—And the tongue is a fire—a world 
of iniquity.” 


212 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Slight jokes or repartees may, perhaps, be safely 
indulged in ; but I have heard jokes whose effects 
were anything but happy. I have known deep 
and lasting wounds inflicted in this way. Be 
cautious here, too. Remember you are, in many re¬ 
spects, the teacher of your husband; and remember 
the saying of an aged German instructor, Salzman, 
that if a teacher has trouble in his school, he 
should first look for the cause in himself or his own 
behaviour, where he will very often find it. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


CONTENTMENT. 

Value of contentment. Why it is especially valuable t» the 
young wife. Duty to her own family and others. Duty 
to God. 

There is no situation of human life, however 
unfavorable, which will not be rendered more toler¬ 
able by contentment. This, indeed, is so trite a 
remark, that it was hardly necessary to repeat it. 
My only reason for doing so is, that of all or nearly 
all other persons in the world, contentment is most 
valuable to the class of persons for whom I am 
writing. 

I have, in a former chapter, alluded to the fact 
that a young wife, in most cases, gives up, in leav¬ 
ing her native home, many physical comforts, as 
well as valuable social enjoyments. Besides a 
mother, a father, brothers and sisters, she has her 
little circle of acquaintances and distant relatives, 
some of whom she was accustomed to see two or 
three times a year, some every month, some every 
week, others almost or quite every day. Here is 
an aged grandmother, in whose arms, nearly as 


214 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


much as in those of her mother, she has been 
brought up, and whom she loves almost as ten¬ 
derly. There is a dear aunt, and two or three 
cousins, whose society, occasionally, at least, seems 
as dear to her as her own existence. There, also, 
within a mile or two of her native home, settled 
around, are half a dozen or a dozen of her old 
play-mates or school-mates, whose faces, and whose 
society, too, are not so easily relinquished or for¬ 
gotten. 

Nor is this all. She is not only attached to 
persons, but to things. The parlor, the book-case, 
the garden, the flowers, yonder ancient cherry 
tree, the peach trees, the plum trees, the currant 
bushes, and even the aged elms in front of the 
house, with the beautiful lawn around, are, from 
association, almost as dear to her as the persons 
around whose happy domicile they are clustered. 
Then there are the school-house, and the church, 
and the grave-yard, and the green, and the post 
office. And then, how many pleasant associations 
cluster around the latter. 

There is, I am aware, a very great difference in 
young ladies, in regard to the strength of these 
attachments; and there is also a difference, still 
greater, in regard to the power of forming new 
ones. But it is seldom given to a young woman 
to be able to break from the scenes of her youth, 


CONTENTMENT. 


215 


and of so much physical comfort, and it may be, 
of so many means of social, intellectual and moral 
improvement, without a struggle, and without many 
sighs and tears. It is indeed right that it should 
be thus ordered. 

But when her decision is made, and the struggle 
is over, she should study contentment in her new 
situation. She is not indeed to forget her former 
home and its joys, but she is to lay the foundation 
of another, equally happy. That home was not 
formed by herself. It was the workmanship of 
others, for her. And has she nothing to do in 
return ? 

Suppose she and all other daughters were to 
cling for life to the old domicile, disregarding the 
virtual injunctions of the great Creator, and pas¬ 
sively occupying seats or reclining in bowers pre¬ 
pared for them. Suppose they were to have 
no reference to the future—to those who should 
come after them ? What, at this rate, would be¬ 
come of the world ? And is it not manifestly—I 
repeat the sentiment—the duty of the young wife, 
to do her part in preparing for others, what has 
been, at so much expense, prepared for herself? 

Besides, it is not only Bible doctrine, but the 
plainest injunction of common sense—elevated and 
rational common sense, I mean—that “ it is more 
blessed to give than to receive ”—that though we 


216 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


may receive and enjoy much good in a passive 
state at home, yet such is the arrangement of Di¬ 
vine Providence, that we shall enjoy much more 
of happiness in action—in doing—than in mere 
receiving. 

Perhaps some young wives will remember this. 
Perhaps they will try to recollect that though 
there is enjoyment in receiving, there is still more 
in giving ;—yes, and more love, too—genuine, 
rational love of others. But I have explained 
and illustrated this doctrine in another chapter. 
All th£ use I wish to make of it here is, to apply 
it to the case of forming a new family, and creat¬ 
ing, as it were, a circle or scene of new joys and 
attachments. Great as the pleasure is which we 
receive in a domestic circle prepared for us, that is 
unquestionably greater, which we derive from pre¬ 
paring one of our own. More than this, it is the 
very doing something for others, at least in part, 
which makes us love them. We love our friends, 
it is true, anterior to doing anything for them ; but 
we love them much—I was going to say infinitely 
—better, when we have done our duty to them 
as parents, or husbands, or wives, through a long 
series of years. 

It should also help to render the young wife 
contented, that, in leaving her native home, she is 
conforming to the will of God. For it cannot, it 


CONTENTMENT. 


217 


seems to me, be doubted what the will of God is, 
in this matter. Woman, like man, has a mission ; 
and to exercise or fulfil it requires that, like Abra¬ 
ham and others, she should leave friends and kin¬ 
dred, and go out into the wide world, she some¬ 
times knows not whither. But if she has been 
wise and careful and prayerful in her determina¬ 
tion ; if she has consulted duty, as a principal thing, 
rather than inclination, or at least, rather than 
fancy; and if she has that trust in Heaven which 
she needs in all situations, but especially in matri¬ 
mony, she may and ought to go out into the world 
cheerfully; and after doing all she can to make 
her situation, external and internal, and the situa¬ 
tion of those around her, as happy as she can, she 
ought to study contentment. No circumstances, 
without this quality, can long confer happiness, or 
even cheerfulness; and with it, no ordinary circum¬ 
stances, however unfavorable, can long render us 
miserable. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


HABITS AND MANNERS. 

Little things. Setting out in life. Important to set out 
light. Difficulty with some husbands. How to manage. 
Lugene and Juliet. General principles. 

I have more than once insisted, that the little 
things of life are, in their results, really the great 
and important things ; and that it is therefore un¬ 
wise to overlook them, as many are inclined to do. 
It is in the matrimonial state of life, however, that 
they are especially important. We cannot disre¬ 
gard them here, without doing it at our peril. 

It will ever be the part of true friendship—and 
what is marriage worth without such an intimacy r 
—mutually to correct and reform each other. But 
by no friends can it be so well done as by husband 
and wife : first, because no relation is so intimate ; 
and secondly, because no friends have so good an 
opportunity of discovering each others’ defects, in 
the smaller matters. Other friends see only a few 
of the larger failings ; but in matrimony, unguarded 
as we are, all our smaller but more numerous 


HABITS AND MANNERS. 219 

defects are brought to light, and rendered suscepti¬ 
ble of correction. 

It is therefore of the utmost importance, that 
the parties should set out with a mutual determina¬ 
tion to perform faithfully, and in a proper temper 
and spirit, the task of correcting one another’s evil 
habits and manners. Let nothing, to this end, pass 
unnoticed. If you pass over a thing to-day, 
because it is slight, or because you feel a delicacy 
of mentioning it, remember you will pass over 
something else of at least equal—perhaps greater— 
importance to-morrow; and the next day, instead 
of one, you will omit two faults ; the next day, 
three ; and so on. 

There are not a few husbands, whose general 
feelings are kind, and who will even engage in 
the work of mutual reformation with their whole 
hearts, who will, nevertheless, be greatly agitated, 
and sometimes, for the moment, almost angry, when 
certain things are mentioned to them as faults* 
They do not consider them worth minding; and 
sometimes, especially in the first moment of per¬ 
turbation, will maintain that they are perfectly 
right. 

With this sort of husbands, the young wife will 
be exceedingly tried. But let her not be surprised. 
Should impatience be manifested, at first, it will 
soon be regretted; and if they are conscientious 


220 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


men, they will not fail soon to acknowledge their 
error, and to accompany it with the proper marks 
of penitence. If they are without consciences, 
then indeed is your condition a sad one. Of those, 
however, who cannot be overcome by persevering 
kindness and faithfulness, the number is exceed¬ 
ingly small. 

Eugene and Juliet entered into a mutual en¬ 
gagement of the kind here referred to, and faith¬ 
fully pursued their respective tasks. But Eugene 
was sometimes irritable when told of a fault, and 
in some instances even complained; while Juliet 
continued immovable ; and in his moments of per¬ 
fect coolness, gently reminded him of his error. 
Ashamed of himself, he promised amendment; but 
his natural irritability of temper again and again 
overcame him. More than once did Juliet urge 
him to relinquish his engagement—but to no pur¬ 
pose. He was determined on reformation, and 
fully resolved on pursuing the means most likely 
to accomplish the object. 

But it was not till after the lapse of six months 
or more, that he attained to the complete command 
of his temper, and could bear to be corrected in 
the minutest matters. However, perseverance at 
last succeeded, and a complete victory is now 
gained, of which he and his wife and the world are 
now reaping the benefits. 


HABITS AND MANNERS. 


221 


To enumerate the thousand little errors of habit 
and manner to which we are liable, especially 
when we have been trained in the ordinary cir¬ 
cumstances of New England families and schools, 
in which almost all these things are either over¬ 
looked or sacrificed to the hurry of business, is far 
from being my present intention. My main ob¬ 
ject was to lay down the principle, and leave each 
young wife to make the application. I will only 
observe that if you find habits of uncleanliness 
very prominent, do not be discouraged, but perse¬ 
vere with resolute kindness, hoping for final com¬ 
plete success. No one can know what may, in 
this way, be accomplished, till she has tried it. 
Remember that the removal of some bad habits, 
though they may seem trifling in themselves, is 
worth years of patient and untiring effort. Re¬ 
member, too, that you are laboring, in these cir¬ 
cumstances, not only for your husband and your¬ 
self, but for others, whose conduct and habits may 
and inevitably will be influenced, more or less, by 
your example. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


DRESS. 


Opinion of Paul. Real objects of dress. Modesty. Dress 
should regulate our temperature. Frequent change—why 
useful. General rule. A painful sight. Nature of profuse 
perspiration, or sweating. Material of dress. Objections 
to cotton. Fashion of dress. Compression of the lungs— 
its evils. Sympathies. Moderate indulgence. Hiding 
defects by dress. Dress of the husband. 

On the subject of dress, Paul has some excel¬ 
lent remarks, in his epistles. While he does not 
condemn a proper regard to one’s attire, he insists 
strongly on plainness and modesty ; and inveighs 
against a fondness for ornaments. “ I will,” says 
he, “ that women adorn themselves in modest ap¬ 
parel, with shame-facedness and sobriety ; not with 
broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array, 
but with good works.” 

Never, perhaps, within the same compass, was 
better advice on this subject given to females— 
especially to married females. For if broidered 
hair and other ornaments were proper for any other 
individual, they are, at least, wholly unbecoming 


DRESS. 


223 


in a wife. She should be, above all, a model of 
simplicity, both in manners and in dress. 

She should remember, first, the true objects of 
dress. To set off one’s person is not, and never 
was, its primary object. Our dress is to cover us, 
to assist in regulating our temperature, to defend 
us from injuries, and to improve our appearance. 

The mention of dress, as a means of improving 
our appearance, will no doubt be regarded, by 
many, as a full license to every indulgence, and 
every excess. But I mean not so much. Re¬ 
member I do not place it first, but last, among the 
objects of dress. Nor does it follow, because I 
give it a place in the list—the last place—that 
any one is to be justified in inverting that order, 
and putting it at the head of the catalogue. 

There are those who defeat, by its fashion, the 
first object for which dress was intended. Cloth¬ 
ing, even in civilized life, does not always cover 
us. It sometimes leaves us partly uncovered ; and 
this, too, not only in violation of every rule of 
common sense, but of the apostolic injunction—“ I 
will that women adorn themselves in modest ap¬ 
parel.” 

I do not, of course, allude here to those viola¬ 
tions of common sense and common decency, 
practised at this very time in our theatres, and 
countenanced, directly or indirectly, by some of 


224 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


those who consider themselves as sustaining, if not 
the first, at least an important station in society— 
violations which are a shame not only to our cities, 
but to our whole community—for with these, I 
hope and trust, few young wives will have any¬ 
thing to do. Their very presence and countenance 
would, in my view, be disgraceful to them. But 
[ allude rather to those more common exposures 
of the chest and limbs which custom has sometimes 
tolerated, and which are even now sometimes 
practised, but which are no less improper than 
unhealthy. 

Whatever others may or may not do, the young 
wife should set an example of the utmost regard 
to modesty in all her attire. As to the fashion, I 
shall not, of course, attempt to dictate. I suppose 
that there is a very wide range of fashion allowa¬ 
ble, which is quite within the pale of modesty. 
The most refined or even fastidious French taste 
needs not, in any possible case, to pass its bounds. 

The second grand object of dress is to regulate 
our temperature. I might perhaps say that its 
object is to increase our temperature—since it sel¬ 
dom if ever happens that our dress, in strictness of 
language, serves to cool us. In changing from a 
lower temperature to a higher one, as in passing 
from winter to summer, or even under the influ¬ 
ence of a burning sun, one dress may be said to be 


DRESS. 


225 


cooler than another; but it is because it does not 
make us so hot as the other; or, in other words, 
it suffers the heat of our bodies to escape faster. 

Hardly anything conduces more to our comfort, 
our eating and drinking perhaps excepted, than a 
due regard to the character and condition of our 
dress—especially in a climate so variable as ours. 
Many people suffer exceedingly, because they do 
not know how to regulate this matter, because 
they do not use the knowledge they possess, or 
because they imagine they cannot devote to it the 
necessary time. 

Many an individual, of both sexes, will complain 
bitterly of the heat, when a little less clothing, or 
a dress a little lighter, would at once remove the 
whole cause of complaint. There seems to be a 
strange fear among us of the consequences of fre¬ 
quently changing our dress. Not a few suppose, 
or appear to suppose, that to go and change their 
dress, even on a midsummer day, will expose them 
to take cold. They will therefore continue to 
wear, through the day, whatever they happen to 
have put on in the morning, however hot or un¬ 
comfortable. 

Now I am not ignorant that many persons, 
especially of my own sex, are either so situated or 
so employed, that a frequent change of dress, so 
as to meet the frequent changes of temperature in 
15 


226 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


our variable climate, is impossible. But it is not 
for such that I am now writing. My remarks are 
directed to a class of persons who have, or might 
have it generally in their power to make changes, 
and who might exercise this power with entire 
safety. 

It is true that without good sense, and the judi¬ 
cious use of it, the course I am recommending 
might expose a person to take cold. If the change 
of dress be too great, or if, on finding ourselves too 
hot, while at our labor, and our heat is increasing, 
we put on a thin dress, and then sit down, espe¬ 
cially where there are cool currents of air circulat¬ 
ing, we may and probably shall take cold. Or 
if we allow ourselves in making the exchange 
towards night, when we are much fatigued, or 
have, during the day, been much over-heated, we 
also endanger our safety. 

But during the early part of the day, when we 
have neither been much fatigued in body or mind, 
nor much over-heated, there is no sort of danger m 
making any changes of dress we please, provided 
we continue our exercise after it; and provided, 
too, the change is not so great as to induce a 
degree of paleness, or a sensation of weakness, 
accompanied by a chill—which, however, under 
the restrictions I have here made, will not, so long 
as we are in health, often happen. 


DRESS. 


227 


I dwell on this point the longer, because it is a 
point so intimately connected with the physical 
and mental comfort of every young housewife. 
How often have I seen this class of persons swel¬ 
tering at midday, in full exercise, under a load of 
clothing which was not at all too great for the 
morning, but which, owing to certain whims in 
which they have been brought up, they dared not 
throw off. 

If this were all, however—if the temporary in¬ 
convenience and suffering were the only suffering 
induced—there would be little comparative need 
that I should say anything on the subject. But 
this is very far from being the case. Every 
degree of this unnecessary heat and fatigue debili¬ 
tates us, both in body and mind ; and not only 
paves the way for, but actually sows the seeds of 
disease. And it is a matter which greatly needs 
to be corrected. 

So important are the views which have been 
presented, to the comfort and health of those for 
whom they are intended, that I venture to repeat 
the rule. It is, that every housewife who is in 
good health, and in the use of moderate exercise, 
and who has not already become much fatigued 
or over-heated, may, with entire safety to health, 
change her dress, and to any extent she pleases, 
provided she does not go so far as to produce a 


228 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


chill. This last she must however guard against, 
and should therefore generally diminish her clothing 
very gradually. 

There is, however, some degree of safety in 
changes which are sudden; but they require 
much care. A housewife who is in moderate 
exercise at the oven, or over the wash-tub, and 
not fatigued, might plunge into cold water, or use 
the shower bath. But it must be a mere plunge, 
or shower bath. She must not continue cold long. 
She must immediately resume her exercise, and se¬ 
cure a glow over the surface of the skin. This, 
however, is usually easy. If the glow or reaction 
could not be secured, she would inevitably be 
injured. 

On the same principle it is that laborers in the 
field may, in the early part of a hot day, while 
little fatigued, safely plunge into a river, if they 
only plunge in, and come immediately out and go 
about their exercise, so as to secure, effectually, a 
reaction or glow on the surface of the body. No 
matter if the body is considerably heated at the 
time they plunge in, and if they are even perspir¬ 
ing pretty freely, if they only secure a reaction ; 
for this is the main point. But if the hardiest per¬ 
son—even the savage—plunges in when greatly 
fatigued, or so much heated as to be weakened, or 
remains in the water too long, and does not secure 


DRESS. 


229 


a reaction when he comes out, but is pale, cold 
and feeble, and remains so, he is inevitably injured. 

Let me not be misunderstood. I am not now 
recommending it to females to use the shower 
bath, or any fonn of cold bathing; but only en¬ 
deavoring to illustrate my principle ; for it is an 
important one. There is an immense amount of 
misery, both immediate and remote, produced to 
society by a neglect of it. On the subjects of 
bathing and cleanliness, I have, however, already 
said something in the chapter on Neatness. 

I am sometimes inclined to think that one rea¬ 
son why the laboring portion of our community, 
especially females, are so frequently the subjects 
of disease, even in the most simple and healthful 
conditions of society, notwithstanding the healthy 
nature and tendency of their employments, in 
themselves considered, is that they over-heat their 
bodies so much. For it is an undeniable fact that, 
in the very healthiest parts of New England, in 
the most elevated country situations, where the 
diet and drink are comparatively good, and where 
mental causes of disease are comparatively inope¬ 
rative, nearly every adult female is more or less 
diseased. 

How many a time have I been pained at the 
sight of a healthy, vigorous housewife, torturing 
herself, and ruining her health—if not that of oth- 


230 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


ers—over a wash-tub, simply because she would 
not diminish the quantity or change the quality of 
her clothing. There she is, toiling and panting, 
with her face as red as if the blood would burst 
forth from its very surface. Yet she toils on, in 
hopes of speedy relief by means of a free perspi¬ 
ration. If she can only sweat freely, she tells us, 
she shall feel better. 

No doubt she will. But it were far better to 
avoid the occasion for a violent perspiration. It 
does no one any good ; nay, it weakens everybody. 
I do not say that it is not useful, as a choice of 
evils. If a housewife will heat herself to excess, 
it is a wise and merciful provision of her heavenly 
Father, that she can get rid of a part of the evil 
consequences, by a profuse perspiration. This is 
the substitution of a lesser evil to prevent a greater. 

Let me not be understood as saying that every¬ 
thing beyond what is commonly called an insensi¬ 
ble perspiration, is injurious As things are, it is 
not so. We are in the daily if not hourly use of 
so many causes of unnecessary heat, external and 
internal, that, did not excessive or profuse perspi¬ 
ration occasionally come on to relieve us, at least 
partially, we should be destroyed much sooner 
than we actually are. Our mental anxieties, our 
cares, our perplexities, our improper passions, our 
exciting and stimulating food and drink, our hot 


DRESS. 


231 


rooms, and a thousand other things, are continually 
heating us beyond what nature intended. This 
makes it the more necessary that I should press 
the importance of not adding to the general con¬ 
flagration by unnecessary clothing, but rather that 
we should use the least amount of clothing whidh 
is compatible with comfort. 

But prone as we are to extremes, equal care 
should be taken not to use, on the contrary, too 
little clothing. This is injurious, though perhaps 
less so than too much. A want of suitable cloth¬ 
ing is only a steady source of chronic disease, 
especially if we are trained to it; but the heat 
which is induced by an excess of clothing not only 
favors the direct production of many diseases, both 
acute and chronic, particularly bilious complaints, 
but by rendering us tender, weakens all our organs, 
and prepares them for other diseases, and then 
exposes us to colds, which excite them. 

True wisdom, in regard to dress, consists in so 
educating the body, from the first, that only a 
small amount of clothing is required. Possibly 
one good suit of firm and appropriate clothing 
might, in such circumstances, and in this climate, 
be sufficient. But as we now are, at twenty, 
thirty, fifty years of age, accustomed to a great 
deal of clothing, both in summer and winter, a 
reduction, at once, to this amount, would not only 


232 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


be uncomfortable, but in some instances, and with 
some states of constitution, quite unsafe. I will 
only say that in hot weather, we generally use far 
too much ; and that the use of too much clothing, 
at any season and under any circumstances, is 
very greatly injurious. 

I lay it down, then, as a general rule, that while 
we should never yield, one moment, to the mis¬ 
taken, but very prevalent notion, that going cold 
hardens us, # we should always keep as cool as we 
can, without being uncomfortable. One degree 
of unnecessary heat is more injurious than two 
of unnecessary cold. 

In regard to the material of dress, 1 have little 
to say. For summer, especially midsummer, I 
prefer linen ; for winter, flannel. For warm, damp 
days, silk next to the skin would often be useful, 
because it is so bad a conductor of electricity, and 
would save many of those unpleasant sensations 
which we feel, when we call the air thick and 
heavy. The damp air, in these circumstances, 
conducts away from our bodies too much of the 
electricity ; and this is probably one source of our 
bad feelings. 

* Going cold may, indeed, slightly harden us, but not 
without too great a sacrifice of our original stock of vital 
power. It is not, therefore, safe to attempt any such hard¬ 
ening process—certain savage nations to the contrary not¬ 
withstanding. 


DRESS. 


23 > 

I prefer linen in summer, and flannel in winter 
to the entire exclusion of cotton—chiefly because 
so many accidents result from the use of the latter 
Hundreds lose their lives every year, in conse¬ 
quence of fire communicated to their cotton cloth¬ 
ing. Greater care would indeed save many of the 
number ; but it would be difficult for the housewife 
always to keep away from the fire ; and therefore 
it is my advice that she keep away from the use 
of cotton, at least in any way that shall expose 
it to take fire. 

In regard to the fashion of female dress, it is 
sufficient to observe that it should always be loose 
and flowing, and without ligatures of any sort. 
The evils of dressing tightly are numerous, and 
some of them serious in their consequences. 

As a general fact, any part of the dress, worn 
tightly, obstructs the circulation. This should al¬ 
ways be free. The consequences of tight caps, 
bonnets, &c., to the adult, are less injurious than 
those of any other tight dress, because the pressure 
does not much affect the tender brain, enclosed as 
it is in a thick bony case. They keep the head 
too hot, it is true; but even this is not so serious 
an evil to a grown person as it is to a child. 

But the compression of almost any other part 
of the adult system is more serious in its conse¬ 
quences. Compression of the hands or feet, be- 


234 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


sides obstructing the circulation, and rendering 
them cold, and producing, on the feet, what are 
called corns, prevents their sending out healthy 
sympathies to other parts. It is a law of the hu¬ 
man frame, from which even the hands and feet 
are not exempt, that if one member or part suf¬ 
fers, all the rest suffer with it; and that if one 
member rejoices, all the other members rejoice 
with it. That is to say, if the hands or feet are 
in a good, sound, healthful condition—rejoicing, as 
one might term it—they send out, as it were, their 
messengers of joy to all other parts, and these re¬ 
joice—become more sound, vigorous and healthy, 
along with them. This is, I say, true of the 
hands and feet; though it is much more true of 
the lungs, stomach, liver, heart, brain, &c. 

Compression of the neck is also injurious ; but 
to this evil, females at the present time, and with 
the present fashions, seem not much exposed. 
Compression of the lower limbs is more common 
and more injurious. Besides rendering the legs 
and feet cold, the use of any sort of ligature below 
the knee exposes a person to what are called vari¬ 
cose veins, which sometimes prove exceedingly 
troublesome, and baffle the skill of the most emi¬ 
nent surgeons. 1 have known instances where 
these varicose veins became so enlarged as finally 
to break forth and form ulcers as lasting as life. 


DRESS. 


235 


Of all forms or modes of compressing the human 
structure, the worst, however, is the fashionable 
custom of compressing the lungs. These are so 
well enclosed by bone, that no ordinary pressure 
produces immediate sensible evil; and yet the 
bones, on three sides, are so yielding and disen¬ 
gaged, that even moderate pressure, if continued 
for a long time, diminishes the space they have to 
moye in ; that is, diminishes what is called the 
cavity of the chest, where the lungs are situated. 

It is in this view that nearly every medical 
writer, who has any knowledge of anatomy and 
physiology, has protested against every form of 
tight lacing the chest. Indeed, it seems impossible 
that any individual who understands its structure 
can doubt on this point. And yet a few do. Dr. 
Dunglison, in his “ Elements of Hygiene,” and 
Dr. Sweetser, in his work on “ Consumption,” 
both attribute the evils of tight lacing by stays, 
corsets, &c., to excess in the use of them ; while 
they more than intimate, especially Dr. D., that 
moderate pressure on the chest and abdomen is, in 
some persons, useful. 

I was not at all surprised that Mrs. Phelps, in 
her “Female Student,” should defend a mode¬ 
rately tight dress. Nor is it strange that Dr. Dun¬ 
glison, who defends the moderate use of poisonous 
drinks, should also justify the moderate use of a 


236 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


worse than poisonous dress. Yet I was not pre¬ 
pared, I confess, to hear similar sentiments avowed 
by the excellent and learned Dr. Sweetser. 

But they are certainly mistaken, and, I trust, 
will not long attempt to stand it out against nearly 
the whole medical and scientific world. It is im¬ 
possible for a considerate person—so it appears to 
me—to believe that the great Creator would have 
left the fore part of the human frame so weak as 
to require, in the healthy person, a constant arti¬ 
ficial bracing. 

And what seems so unlikely, we may be fully 
assured, has never, in point of fact, happened. 
Every ounce of pressure beyond the weight of our 
clothing is, if long continued, injurious. It is in¬ 
jurious, first, just as a weight hung to a door is 
injurious, by causing it to open and close with 
more difficulty, and thus producing unnecessary 
wear. Secondly, it is injurious by causing an un¬ 
necessary expenditure of vitality, in our constant 
efforts to support, like a burdened saddle horse, 
the unnecessary weight. Thirdly, the want of 
action favors, and even invites disease. Fourthly, 
it prevents the full and free circulation of air, and 
the consequent change of the impure blood which 
is sent into the lungs ; and fifthly, it does great 
mischief by sending out to all other organs and 
parts of the body, its unhealthy sympathies. 


DRESS* 


231 


These five positions against tight dress of any 
kind, for the lungs, appear to me so plain, so 
obvious, and so well established by modem writers, 
that I hardly need to attempt their elucidation* 
We have probably all heard how the inactivity of 
the lungs favors or invites inflammation of those 
organs, and consequent colds, asthmas, lung fevers 
and consumptions; and we all know that mischief 
must follow, whenever the impure, black blood of 
the human system cannot be effectually purified 
in the cavity of the lungs, whither it is sent for 
that special purpose. 

There is, however, one point ou which it is 
necessary for me to dwell a few moments, because 
other writers, though they have not always wholly 
omitted it, have not attached to it, as it seems to 
me, sufficient importance. I allude to the un¬ 
healthy sympathies which are extended by the 
lungs, when unduly compressed. 

The sympathy of the lungs with other organs is 
not always in proportion to their nearness, but 
rather to their relative concernment in the same 
office. Thus the skin, which fulfils, in part, the 
same office with the lungs, has the most powerful, 
striking, and important sympathies with those or¬ 
gans. Hence it is that when the lungs are com¬ 
pressed, the skin, though it may seem for a while 
to make increased effort, is at last enfeebled, and 


£38 THE YOUNG WIFE. 

being unable to do its part in the general work of 
purifying the blood and other fluids of the system, 
it becomes pale, flaccid, loose or shrunk, and 
diseased. 

It should also be remembered that the moment 
the skin begins to suffer, this, too, extends its sym¬ 
pathies, unhealthy and diseased as they are, not 
only back to the lungs, but to all other parts of the 
body, especially the lining membrane of the intes¬ 
tines. These again, in their turn, react both on 
the skin and the lungs ; and if there were no re¬ 
deeming circumstances to interpose, the whole 
system, in its multifarious parts and organs, would 
be involved in a sort of civil war, which would 
continue till the system itself was destroyed. 

Do you say this is a frightful picture ? Fright¬ 
ful as it is, I cannot doubt that the reality, could 
you behold it, would be still more so—much, I 
say, more so, because it is not the skin alone on 
which fall the first evil impressions or sympathetic 
actions. Other organs immediately suffer, some 
more, others less ; and all in proportion to the de¬ 
gree and permanence of the pressure, and their 
relation to the parts which first feel the evils of the 
compression. 

It would be well if the mischief which ensues 
ended with the sufferer. But alas! as a general 
rule, it is not so. It only begins with her. Its 


DRESS. 


239 


effects go on to generations that come after her. 
If, in the progress of the world’s history, she should 
have thousands, of descendants, not one of them, 
to the remotest periods of time, would be precisely 
what he might have been, had she conformed 
more strictly to the natural laws—the laws of the 
human constitution. 

These may be hard sayings, but hard as they 
are, they must not be suppressed. The whole 
truth must be told. If people will destroy them¬ 
selves and those who come after them, they ought 
not, at least, to be suffered to do it blindly. Let 
their eyes be opened, and the truth be faithfully 
told and reiterated, and then, if there should be 
found among us those who will not give heed to 
the truth, who shall say that public sentiment ought 
not, in strict justice, to be turned against them ? 

I am not ignorant that every young wife will 
plead her own innocence in this matter of tight 
dressing. She knows, she says, full well, the 
abominable evils of the practice; and, for herself, 
never dresses so tightly as to produce the least 
possible injury. Other people do, she is well aware, 
but she wonders at their folly, and always did. 

Now I repeat the sentiment; that if a moderate 
indulgence in this practice be admitted, the prac¬ 
tice itself can never be suppressed. For every 
one will plead that, for her own part, she keeps 


MO 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


quite within the bounds of a reasonable moderation ; 
so that no transgressors, by confession, can be found. 
The worst—‘they who are dying—are always 
among the moderates; and they pity most heartily 
those who approach even the borders. 

A young lady in-—, besides wearing corsets 

very tight, is accustomed to fasten her dress around 
her so closely as to require the main strength of an 
assistant to bring it together. Yet no one, more 
than she, pities those who are addicted to the 
foolish habit of tight lacing. She wonders they 
can do it. She, for her part, wears her clothes 
very loose indeed ; she would not dress tightly for 
the world. 

I have said elsewhere, that every ounce weight 
of pressure, beyond the weight of the clothes, is 
injurious ; and I have no disposition to recall the 
sentiment. It must be reiterated and believed. 
To dress in entire accordance with the best inter¬ 
ests of our frame, would be, as Mr. Dick, in one 
of his recent works, has justly observed, to let our 
clothes hang loosely from our shoulders. Certain 
it is—and I repeat it once for all—that all com¬ 
pression about the chest of either sex, especially 
of females, is more or less injurious, and must, in 
the progress of human improvement, be abandoned. 

And now, after all that I have said, I have little 
hope of accomplishing much good. People are so 


DRESS. 


241 


wedded to long established customs, and so en¬ 
slaved to fashion, that there is very little hope 
of leading them into a “more excellent way.” 
There is, however, one ray of hope for our en¬ 
couragement. Though the young wife may not 
have moral courage to abandon tight dressing her¬ 
self, she may have courage, so far as she has abso¬ 
lute control over others, to prevent their following 
her example. It is true, her own example will be 
in the way of her lessons, but something can be 
done in spite of it. 

People who have been accustomed to brace the 
chest, feel not only a degree of uneasiness, but an 
actual want of their usual strength, if the support 
is at once discontinued. Hence they infer its 
necessity to themselves, trained as they are, though 
they may deny its necessity to others. But the 
dram drinker, or opium, or snuff, or tobacco taker, 
or tea or coffee drinker, might plead for indulgence, 
on the same principle that people plead for corsets. 
They, too, feel a loss of strength, as if they should 
fall to pieces, if they do not have their accustomed 
support. And she who will not lay aside her 
corsets, because she shall have bad feelings if she 
does, must not be found complaining of others, if 
they refuse, for precisely the same reason, to lay 
aside their spirits, their wine, their cider, their beer, 
their tobacco, their opium, their tea and their coffee. 

16 


242 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


I have said something of dress, as a means of 
improving our appearance ; but before I close this 
chapter, I wish to say a few words on its use as a 
means of concealing personal deformities. 

When we look at a person who is deformed, 
our eye, almost involuntarily, first catches the de¬ 
formity. This naturally embarrasses—sometimes 
pains him ; and at second thought, perhaps, we 
perceive the evil we have done, and wish we had 
avoided it. I do not say it is not a mark of impo¬ 
liteness thus to gaze at the deformities of a stran¬ 
ger ;—be it so. Still it is a very common case, 
and will be likely to continue so. 

When, therefore, I approve of using dress to 
conceal deformities of person, it is in reference 
to these known traits of human nature. It is to 
prevent giving or receiving pain, and establish¬ 
ing those unfavorable first impressions which it is 
so difficult afterwards to eradicate. I am far from 
intending to give license, by my remarks, to any¬ 
thing which even approaches the borders of fop¬ 
pery in dress, or even of gaiety. 

I like, I confess, to see a young wife neatly 
dressed. There is a neatness which is perfectly 
compatible with plainness; and a dress may be 
graceful, without being ridiculous. I love, in this 
respect, simplicity; I can bear a degree of gaiety ; 
but I cannot endure levity. 


DRESS. 


243 


I like a neat simplicity, because, somehow or 
other, there appears to be a frequent connection 
between the outside and the inside. The exterior 
is, to some extent, a key to the interior. If I see 
a person dressed like a thorough-going fop, I can¬ 
not, if I would, respect the mind of that person. 
Even where a future close acquaintance discloses 
to me my error, it is hard to overcome first impres¬ 
sions. 

When I first saw the picture of Mrs. Hemans, 
the friend who directed me to it concealed, for a 
time, the name, and asked me how l liked it. 
Accustomed as I was to look with pain, and some¬ 
times with horror, on a human being shaped like a 
wasp, I told him frankly I did not like it very well. 
He was surprised; he thought it the most perfect 
thing of the kind he had ever seen, &c. I, too, 
was surprised, when I found whose picture it was ; 
and I have little doubt that it would have altered, 
to some extent, my opinion, had I known before¬ 
hand to whom it belonged. Still, under any cir¬ 
cumstances whatever, such a wasp-like waist would 
lower my estimate of the good sense of the person 
to whom it belonged. 

A wife, I have said, should dress neatly, though 
plainly. It is a duty which she owes to the com¬ 
munity. It is a duty to her husband. It is a 
duty to the rest of her household, if she have any 


244 THE YOUNG WIFE* 

It is a duty to herself. Let her study, however, 
to avoid pernicious fashions. 

A person who has no regard for her own ap¬ 
pearance, will be apt to overlook the appearance 
of her husband. This will be of less consequence, 
if he have wealth. The wealthy and influential 
can better afford to disregard their dress, since 
they will seldom lose anything by it. Not so with 
the poor man. He cannot afford to neglect his 
exterior. His coat must not only be in good 
style, but must be kept properly and neatly 
mended. 

I have seen females who neglected all the latter 
sort of work ;—“wives they were called, but they 
were unworthy of the name. They we;e by no 
means going to stoop to the paltry business of 
mending garments. Though willing their husband 
should appear well, they were more willing to let 
his elbow protrude through a hole in the sleeve. 

The good wife deems nothing which tends to 
health, comfort, or true respectability, beneath her 
notice. She can not only make a loaf of bread, 
(for that is the summit of the art of cookery,) and 
a good pudding, but she can mend clothes, and 
darn stockings. In one word, she regards nothing 
as mean which she believes to be duty. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


HKALTH. 


Purity of the air in our apartments. Purity of clothing—fur¬ 
niture—cellars—drains—wells, &c. Personal cleanliness. 
Its expense not to be considered. Various modes of 
exercise. Household labor. Exercise in the open air. 
Walking. Riding. Health, in our own keeping. Health 
of the husband. General remarks. 

Although several chapters in other parts of 
this work, especially those on Economy and Neat¬ 
ness, treat of health in many important points, 
yet I should leave my plan in a very unfinished 
state, if I should neglect to mention, under a gen¬ 
eral head, a few particulars which are not included 
elsewhere. The subject of bodily health, in itself, 
but more especially in reference to its connection 
with mental health, is of too much consequence to 
the class of persons for whom this book is designed, 
to be lightly passed over. 

And first, let me speak of the purity of the air in 
our apartments. Need I remind my reader that 
there are a thousand substances connected with 
every kitchen, which should be speedily removed, 


246 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


or they may be a means of producing disease ? 
Does she not know enough of chemistry to induce 
her to prevent, to the utmost of her power, the 
accumulation of any other gas, within her precincts, 
than that mixture of oxygen and nitrogen—the 
atmosphere—which has been prepared for our use 
by the Creator ? 

Whether carpets render the air impure, to an 
extent which favors the production of pulmonary 
diseases, as some German writer has recently told 
us, I am not certain. But the known facts that 
they entangle and retain with readiness much bad 
air, and that they often prove an excuse for neglect 
of sweeping and washing our rooms, should lead 
us to doubt, very much, their general utility. 

But whether carpets be used or not, the utmost 
pains should be taken by every young housewife— 
and the sooner she forms the habit, the better—to 
keep the floor and the walls of every room per¬ 
fectly clean, and the air perfectly sweet. To this 
end, all rooms should be frequently aired. All 
clothing, whether it be wearing apparel or bed 
clothing, should be frequently shaken well and 
exposed ; and the more frequently, in proportion 
to the warmth and moisture of the surrounding 
atmosphere. Beds', whether slept in or not, but 
especially if used, should be often thrown open, 
and duly exposed to pure air. 


HEALTH. 


247 


All furniture, large or small, should be con¬ 
stantly watched, and kept perfectly sweet and 
clean. There should be no putting away the im¬ 
plements of eating and drinking, in such a state as 
to render the things themselves acid or impure, or 
the air around them unfit for healthy respiration. 
I speak now of a healthy state of a family. In 
sickness, the caution is more important still. 

I have seen families accounted perfectly neat, 
who yet suffered so many things to spoil in the 
house, that I wondered not, on the appearance of 
an epidemic disease, to see it break in upon them, 
and carry off from three to six of their number. 
1 have said they were accounted neat; but were 
they truly so ? Look at the cellars, the kitch¬ 
ens, the drains, and the'yards ! See the putrefied 
vegetables and fluids, the half spoiled meat, the 
offal matter, the heaps of manure, the vaults ! See 
the well, with which it is ten to one but some of 
these communicate, but which, perhaps, has not 
been cleansed for four or five years ! 

You will say that all this belongs to the hus¬ 
band, rather than the housewife. Granted it were 
so, it can do no harm to remind the housewife 
of it, that she may remind him. He is busy here 
and there, and may overlook it; but the organs of 
sight and smell, of those who are hourly annoyed, 
will not so readily permit this It is not, however, 


248 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


true that the matter belongs exclusively to the 
husband. It belongs to both. God has estab¬ 
lished the institution of matrimony, in part, for 
the mutual education of the parties ; and a due 
attention to each other’s health is a most important 
portion of the great work. Besides, reason as we 
will, all these things are attended to or neglected, 
according to the housewife’s estimate of their 
importance. 

But personal cleanliness is not less important, in 
this respect, than the cleanliness of our dwellings, 
and everything around them. The young wife 
must not only sustain the husband’s efforts, as far 
as he seems inclined to go, but even urge him on. 
There is not one husband in a hundred who will 
not need this assistance. There is not one in a 
hundred who, notwithstanding his neatness, or 
rather particularity, in some points, will not find his 
health and happiness essentially promoted by giving 
heed to the promptings of a judicious companion, 
in matters pertaining both to purity of person and 
clothing. 

The truth is, that females make discoveries that 
their husbands are very apt to overlook. They 
see the smallest specks of dirt; and observe the 
tendencies to negligence, in their most incipient 
state. They may not, indeed, without instruction, 
understand to the full extent their bearing or 


HEALTH 


249 


health ; but they know, full well, that all is not 
right; and wo to the husband who despises their 
suggestions and counsels, merely because he can¬ 
not count their worth in dollars and cents. 

It is not my purpose to enter deeply, here, into 
particulars. Indeed, in regard to dress, I cannot; 
and my readers must not expect it. In regard to 
cleanliness of person, a few remarks may be of 
some service. 

The importance of local washings—of the hands, 
face, neck, feet, &lc. —is generally conceded. I 
do not say it is generally practised ; for half the 
work of this kind which is done, is only half done. 
Multitudes of busy as well as fastidiously delicate 
people, instead of washing themselves, do little 
more than to make a mockery of it. To wash is 
to make clean, and not merely to make believe we 
have made clean. But I have said enough on 
this point, under the head of Neatness. 

Perhaps I ought, however, to say something of 
the manner of performing our ablutions. This 
may be either with simple water or with soap and 
water; the temperature of the water may be high 
or low; and the mode of application extensively 
various. There is the cold bath, the warm bath, 
the hot bath, and the vapor bath ; and either of 
these may be simple or medicated. I am not, 
however, now prescribing for the sick, and must 


250 


THE YOTXNG WIFE. 


therefore omit all further notice of baths which are 
medicated. The cold bath may be applied by 
the sponge or the hand, in the form of a simple 
washing, in the form of the shower bath, or in the 
form of submersion or plunging. For the mere 
purpose of cleansing the surface, it makes little 
difference which of these modes is adopted; but 
when we wish to combine with the purposes of 
cleanliness, an increase of bodily tone and vigor, 
the shower bath may be, perhaps, as effectual as 
any. The simple washing of the surface with the 
hand is most convenient; but this may and should 
be appended to the shower bath. 

The cold bath is best in the early part of the 
day, when we have enough vigor of constitution to 
secure a reaction, which is the case much oftenei 
than is usually supposed. By beginning with 
water which is but moderately cold, or by going 
at first quickly through with the process, there are 
few persons who are not actually sick, who cannot 
soon learn to endure it, and even find it a luxury. 
I have known whole families, some of whose mem¬ 
bers were far from being very vigorous, begin the 
practice of daily cold bathing in midwinter, and 
without the least inconvenience. Indeed, I believe 
it will generally be found that water of a tempera¬ 
ture at least as low as 45 degrees, is more com¬ 
fortable, or at least more likely to be followed 


HEALTH. 


251 


by a glow, than that which is of a higher tem¬ 
perature. 

Do you say the practice requires time and ex¬ 
pense ? As to the expense, in money, it is not 
worth considering. How much does it cost, to 
erect apparatus enough for shower bathing ? How 
much to get a bathing tub ? How much to pro¬ 
vide even for warm or vapor bathing ? And as to 
time, even, how easy is it to redeem, from that 
abominable waste of this most precious gift of God 
which everywhere prevails, in unnecessary cookery, 
an ample supply, not only to bathe once, but, were 
it necessary, ten times a day. 

But exercise is nearly as necessary to every 
housewife as purity of air, and cleanliness of per¬ 
son and clothing. This, however, she who dis¬ 
penses with servants will be very likely to procure. 
This was, in fact, one object which I had in view, 
when I insisted that females ought to do their own 
work.—Were it not accounted, by many, as rank 
heresy, 1 might insist strongly, as 1 have done 
elsewhere, that nearly every female would be 
benefited by moderate agricultural or horticultural 
labor. 

Nothing short of the actual performance of the 
usual labors of the kitchen will, however, secure 
and preserve the health of the young wife. With¬ 
out this, at least, she will almost inevitably suffer. 


252 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Tf proof were necessary in the case, we might find 
it in the actual condition of this class of the com¬ 
munity—diseased, most of them, more or less, for 
want of suitable exercise ; and this before they are 
twenty-five, or at most, thirty years of age. 

There are, however, other forms of exercise 
which will serve as partial substitutes for house 
work. Among the more important of these is 
walking. She who dares not venture to be so sin¬ 
gular as to work in the garden or in the field, and 
is yet too proud to labor in the house, may preserve 
her health, in some good measure, by walking. 

Some females cannot walk, they tell us. And 
they say this, no doubt, in sincerity. Much de¬ 
pends on habit. Some who are constitutionally 
vigorous, and can perform a great deal of in-door 
labor, soon tire, if they attempt to walk. But the 
reason is, they have never been accustomed to it. 
Let them begin by walking a short distance at a 
time, and they will soon find themselves able to 
walk several miles at once, with as much ease as 
they could at first a quarter of a mile. I have 
seen experiments of this sort so frequently made, 
that I feel fully confident I have not exaggerated. 

But the ability to walk, valuable as it is in itself, 
is not the only thing gained by the exercise. The 
whole system is invigorated at the same time ; and 
the mind, too, is a gainer with the rest. To what 


HEALTH. 


253 


extent the physical and mental constitution may 
be improved by out-of-door exercises—moderate 
labor, walking and riding—I am unable to deter¬ 
mine. 

Riding on horseback, next to walking, is the 
most salutary exercise for females, in the open air. 
The lighter games, as battledore, hook and ring, 
&tc., are of little comparative value. I will not 
say that they are entirely useless, but compared 
with household work and walking, they seem 
scarcely worthy of being mentioned. 

Those who recommend active exercise to fe¬ 
males, and to those of the other sex who lead a 
sedentary life, appear, in their directions, to aim 
no higher than the preservation of what vigor they 
at present enjoy. The idea of adding to the stock 
of a person’s health, between the ages of twenty 
and forty, seems scarcely to be thought of. It 
will, however, be seen, by the foregoing remarks, 
however heterodox the opinion may be, that I 
fondly cherish it. I believe it to be the duty of 
every individual, to improve in bodily and mental 
strength and activity, till thirty-five or forty years 
of age. There may indeed be a few exceptions 
to such a rule, but I think they are exceedingly 
rare. 

One thing is certain—and were we sure of 
nothing more, the object w ould be worthy of our 


254 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


highest efforts—that our health is, as a general 
rule, committed, by a wise and glorious Creator, 
to our own keeping. We are, under God, as 
much the artificers of physical as of moral charac¬ 
ter. Both are attainable upon the same general 
condition, viz., effort, or action. To prevent 
corporeal illness, says Dr. Johnson, in his “ Econ¬ 
omy of Health,” as well as to prevent that state 
of mind which usually attends it, we must “ keep 
the body active, and the stomach empty.” Not 
that even Dr. J. would have us over-act, on the 
one hand, or starve, on the other; but he well 
knew the effects of incessant action, when not im¬ 
moderate. We should feel as if we had no time 
to be sick. 

I might dwell, at considerable length, on the 
importance of every individual virtue of the whole 
catalogue, in promoting health and happiness; espe¬ 
cially of the salutary tendency, not only of tempe¬ 
rance, bodily and mental, in every form, but of 
cheerfulness, hope, and especially faith. The 
truth is, there is not a single quality which im¬ 
proves, adorns or exalts us, as social, intellectual, 
political, moral or religious beings, which will not 
at the same time benefit our health. Nor is it less 
true that, philosophically speaking, every particle 
we gain of physical vigor adds something to the 
stock of intellect and morality. It is in this view. 


HEALTH. 


255 


and with these sentiments, that I so frequently 
suffer one chapter to run into and trench upon 
another. Such is the connection which I plainly 
perceive between health and morals, that I scarcely 
know how to separate them. 

One word more. The wife should never forget, 
in any of her movements, that she is responsible, 
in no small degree, for the health of her husband, 
no less than of herself. None of us, says the Bible, 
liveth to himself, and none of us dieth to himself; 
and if this remark is peculiarly applicable in any 
relation of life short of that of brethren in the 
church, it is in matrimony. A great deal might be 
written—nay, a great deal has been written—to 
point out the proper means and methods in which 
and by which woman may discharge some of her 
relative duties. Enough for me, however, in this 
place, if I endeavor to see that she do not lose 
sight of her own happiness and that of her hus¬ 
band. 

But it would require volumes to present, in 
detail, all the rules and directions which might 
properly be presented, in relation to the means of 
preserving and improving health. It would be to 
enter deeply into the philosophy of the human 
frame, in all its parts and functions, and to speak 
at length of exercise, temperature, air, sleep and 
dietetics. So closely, indeed, is our physical well 


256 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


oeing dependent on the quantity and character of 
our food, that this alone requires a volume. All I 
can do in a work like the present, and, I trust, all 
that will be expected, will be, that I should barely 
allude to the subject. Of the importance of study, 
and of the instruments by which a course of study 
is to be pursued, I propose to say something in 
another place. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


ATTENDING THE SICK. 

Attending the sick should be a part of female education. 
Objections to this view considered. Reasons why females 
should be thus trained. Their native qualifications for 
this office. Their labor cheaper. They have stronger 
sympathies. Application of the principle to the case of the 
young wife. 

That system of female education is wholly in¬ 
complete, which leaves neglected the art of nursing 
the sick. If it should be said that on this principle 
we have no perfect system of female education, I 
shall not object to the inference, nor attempt to 
lessen its force. I have long held, and still hold, 
the opinion, that every female should be taught the 
art of ministering at our bedside, and “ binding the 
brow ” in pain and in sickness. 

The greatest known objection to this principle 
is, that it is sounder economy to expend our efforts 
in the way of preventing evil to the rising genera¬ 
tion, in our own families and elsewhere, than to 
employ any laige portions of our time in the cor¬ 
rection of evils which have already arisen. 

17 


258 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


This objection would have more force, if the 
art of managing the sick required the expenditure 
of much time; but it does not. If we make 
the most in our power of the occurrences of life, 
in our own families and in the families of those 
around us, there is little danger that females will 
very soon be in want of opportunities for in¬ 
forming themselves in the art of attending the 
sick. I am as solicitous that we should be ready 
to serve our fellow beings, out of our own families, 
in cases of sickness, as I am that we should with¬ 
hold our service and refuse that of our neighbors, 
in other circumstances. 

The truth is, that as the world now is, every 
neighborhood of much size has, every year, if not 
almost every month, a greater or less amount of 
sickness. Sometimes the disease is slight, at others 
it is more severe. The art of rendering all our 
young ladies proper attendants on the sick consists 
in employing them whenever any sickness occurs, 
instead of requiring them, as is now the case 
almost universally, to stand at a distance. 

“ But shall we not, in this way, expose their 
health ? ” it may be asked. Expose their health ! 
How ? “ Why, it always exposes our health to 

go among the sick,” I shall be told. Not so fast, 
however. A little explanation is necessary. 


ATTENDING THE SICK. 


259 


It exposes our health to do anything beyond our 
strength, whether among the sick or the well. 
But in the ordinary circumstances of disease, there 
is no necessity that a female should go beyond her 
strength. Indeed, one prominent object of edu¬ 
cating all females to the art of attending the sick 
is to prevent this. When there is only an indi¬ 
vidual here and there—one perhaps in a family, 
or sometimes only one in a neighborhood—that 
“ understands sickness,” as it is called, the danger 
of going beyond the strength is often considerable. 
But where every wife and daughter is equally 
qualified for the task, there is no necessity of the 
kind. Every hour of laborious employment can 
be alternated with several hours of relief or re¬ 
laxation. 

“ But is it not true,” you will perhaps ask, 
“ that the sick room itself endangers the health, let 
our presence in it be ever so short?” Yes, it 
does, if there is a contagious disease, or if the room 
and its contents are not often enough ventilated. 
But contagion, in the usual acceptation of the 
term, is seldom present; and when it is, the dan¬ 
ger of being affected by it is greatly heightened 
by our fears of it, and by the want of confidence 
or courage which those who are newly initiated 
into the mysteries of the sick room almost always 
feel, and still more, by that over-fatigue to which, 


260 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


in the existing state of things, they are almost 
always subjected. Old nurses and attendants of 
the sick, and physicians, seldom contract disease; 
and one reason is, they have no fears of doing so. 
Some of these may be found in such places as 
New York and Philadelphia, who are quite aged, 
and yet have spent their lives, as it were, in the 
sick room, even amid what is usually regarded as 
contagion. 

It is not indeed contended that the young girl 
of only six or eight years of age, who has never 
been present where a person was sick enough to be 
confined to his bed, ought to be plunged at once into 
the midst of fever or cholera. Let young girls, from 
the earliest age at which they can possibly be of 
service, be accustomed gradually to the sick room; 
first, where the disease is mild—perhaps little more 
than a cold ; and afterward, where it exists in its 
severer forms. If the exposure is thus gradual, 
they will seldom know whaf*the fear of disease is; 
and thus escape pain, when there is no occasion for 
it, and danger, when danger actually exists. 

This general reasoning on the subject would 
have less force, if the education or training to 
which I have referred was costly, or difficult of 
access. But it is not so. Not that all which 
is valuable of the most liberal education afforded 
by the best schools in the world, would not be 


ATTENDING THE SICK. 


261 


useful to one who was to spend her days as a 
female attendant of the sick; doubtless it would. 
Still, so liberal an education will not, for many 
centuries to come, if ever, be attainable by the 
mass of our female population ; nor is it wholly 
indispensable. A good common school educa¬ 
tion, including, as every common school education 
should, a tolerable knowledge of chemistry, botany, 
anatomy and physiology, joined to that gradual 
introduction to the sick room and its inmates of 
which I have already spoken, would render young 
females, in general, as well qualified attendants as 
the best now are—and probably more so. 

Thus have I shown that the objections which 
are commonly brought against this part of what I 
call an appropriate female education, have very 
little weight. I now proceed to show, in greater 
detail, the reasons for what I propose. 

It sometimes happens that here and there a 
female in single life is unemployed. To such 
persons, nursing or attending the sick would be 
a sort of profession, not only highly beneficial to 
mankind, but profitable to themselves. It is a 
common saying, that “ a good nurse is worth as 
much to the sick patient as a physician ; ” and 
there is no little truth in it. And since it is so, 
and since females are better adapted to the perform¬ 
ance of this task than males, it is of the highest 


262 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


importance to the former, in particular, that they 
should be instructed in it. No individual would, 
in my view, lose anything by it, while not a few 
in society would not only be saved from ennui, or 
disgust with life, but rendered happy in themselves, 
and a source of happiness to those around them. 

Females are better calculated, by nature and 
providence, for attending the sick, than males. 
They have more fortitude in scenes of trial and 
distress; their manners and methods are more 
gentle; their devotion to what they undertake is 
greater; their thoughts less engrossed by other 
objects, especially the cares and pressure of busi¬ 
ness ; and, what would seem to follow, their atten¬ 
tion is more constant and unremitted. In a word, 
they are formed for days, and nights, and months, 
and years of watchfulness, not only over our in¬ 
fancy, but over both our first and second child¬ 
hood ; and it were strange indeed if the Creator, 
in qualifying them for all this, had not also quali¬ 
fied them to watch over us and bind our brow, in 
the pain and sickness of the years that intervene. 

It is true that there are cases which require the 
aid, if not the constant presence, of an assistant, 
whose physical strength is greater than that of 
most females; but even in these cases, the services 
of the female attendant are most important and 
most indispensable. 


ATTENDING THE SICK. 265 

Female attendance, where it is to be paid for, 
can of course be afforded much cheaper than that 
of the other sex. This, to a community like ours, 
is a consideration of importance. It is also an 
object of great importance—and to the lower 
class, no less than to the higher—that the same 
attendant or set of attendants should be secured to 
the same individual, during his whole sickness. 
So much mischief is done in the world by con¬ 
stantly changing the responsibility, in these cases, 
that I have for years insisted, and must continue 
to insist, on the importance of regular attendance. 
This is an additional reason for the employment, 
and consequently, for the education of females 
with reference to this point. 

Once more. Females sympathize with the sick 
more than males, and by consequence, anticipate 
more readily their wants. I was struck, once, with 
the remark of a friend who, having just been sick, 
was comparing two of his attendants. “ A.,” said 
he, “ did well; but B. did better. A. brought 
everything as soon as I asked for it, but B. a little 
before.” 

To apply the foregoing remarks to the case of 
the young wife—In a world like this, she cannot 
expect to escape scenes of distress and sickness. 
Some member of her family will sooner or later be 
likely to demand attendance. Is it her husband ? 


264 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Will she be willing to leave him wholly to the 
care of others ? Will she not pass many—perhaps 
the most—of the tedious hours at his bedside ? 

How happy will it now be for both parties, if 
she have been educated to her task! How happy 
if her feelings do not overcome her better judgment, 
and lead her to destroy, in circumstances to which 
she may be brought, the very individual whom she 
would give the world to save ! 


CHAPTER XXX. 


LOVE OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. 


What the love of childhood is. Frequent want of it. Dr 
Gregory’s opinion—Mr. Addison’s. Great gulf fixed be¬ 
tween children and adults. Love of childhood favorable 
to mental improvement—to the happiness of the wife—to 
the happiness of her husband—to religious improvement. 
Example of the Saviour. How to elicit this love, when it 
is wanting. Remarks on faith, and its importance. What 
faith can enable us to accomplish. 

It may strike some readers as singular, that 1 
should lay it down as a duty of the young wife, to 
cultivate a love of infancy and childhood. Every 
one loves children, it will be said, and when such 
a love is wanting, all the rules in the world for 
developing or cultivating it will do no good. 

But it is not true that all persons have a genuine 
love of infancy and childhood. A person may 
have a sort of instinctive love of children, because 
they happen to be her own relatives or friends, 
without a particle of that feeling to which I now 
refer—the love of infancy and childhood for its 
own sake. Perhaps this trait might be included 


266 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


under the word simplicity , taken in its largest 
sense; but it is so prominent and so important a 
trait of human character, that it seems best to de¬ 
vote to its consideration a separate chapter. 

The love of infancy and childhood leads us to 
take an interest in the things which delight and 
interest children. And however we may explain 
the fact, or whether it is at all explicable or not, 
we believe nothing is better proved than that the 
free intercourse of the old with the young greatly 
conduces to the health and longevity of the former. 
We cannot stop to fortify, by authority, all of what 
may be deemed our heresies , but the following 
remarks, from the distinguished Dr. Gregory, of 
Edinburgh, are too important to be unnoticed, 
especially on a point which is so universally over¬ 
looked or disregarded. 

“Old people would find great advantage in 
associating rather with the young than with those 
of their own age. The conversation of young 
people dissipates their gloom, and communicates 
a cheerfulness, and something else, perhaps, which 
we do not fully understand, of great consequence 
to health and the prolongation of life. There is a 
universal principle of imitation among mankind, 
which disposes them to catch instantaneously, and 
without being conscious of it, the resemblance of 
any action or character that presents itself. We 


LOYE OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. 267 

have numberless examples of this, in the similitude 
of character and manners induced by people living 
much together. We will not attempt to explain 
the nature of this mental infection ; but it is a fact 
well established that such a thing exists, and that 
there is such a thing in nature as a healthy sym¬ 
pathy, as well as a morbid infection. 

“ An old man, who enters into this philosophy, 
is far from envying, or proving a check on the 
innocent pleasures of young people, and particu¬ 
larly of his own children. On the contrary, he 
attends with delight to the gradual opening of the 
imagination, and the dawn of reason ; he enters, 
by a secret sort of sympathy, into their guiltless 
joys, that revive in his memory the tender images 
of his youth, which, as Mr. Addison observes, by 
length of time, have contracted a softness inex¬ 
pressibly agreeable ; and thus the evening of life 
is protracted to a happy, honorable and unenvied 
old age.” 

Nor is familiar intercourse with the young much 
less conducive to the health and happiness of per¬ 
sons in middle age. It is recommended, therefore, 
to every young wife, to interest herself as much as 
may be, in the amusements, employments and 
conversation of children. Or if she is naturally 
inclined to do so, she will do well to preserve as¬ 
siduously the habit. 


268 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


I have been surprised at the difference of man¬ 
kind, in regard to the point in question. Some 
very excellent people never appear to have the 
least possible sympathy with infancy and childhood. 
Indeed, children seldom approach them in a free, 
familiar manner; or if they do, they seem to dis¬ 
cover, as if by instinct, their disposition, and soon 
make their retreat. 

It is a most unfortunate circumstance, that fash¬ 
ion, and custom, and business, have fixed such a 
great gulf between children and adults, and espe¬ 
cially between children and the aged. Children 
live in the future, and naturally—I had almost said 
instinctively—delight in hearing the conversation 
and stories of those who are older. And yet the 
latter, who live in the past, and delight as much 
in relating what they have seen and heard as chil¬ 
dren do in hearing it, seem, for the most part, to 
stand aloof from them, and even to bury this fund 
of instruction in the grave of their decaying facul¬ 
ties. Why is this gulf of separation kept up, to 
the great loss of all parties and of the world? 
Let us be grateful to Heaven that attempts are 
beginning to be made to pass it, the results of 
which cannot be otherwise than successful and 
happy. 

The love of juvenile character which I recom¬ 
mend is greatly conducive to intellectual improve 


LOVE OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. 269 


ment. Those who associate much with children 
seem to make far greater mental progress than 
persons in other circumstances. “ Teaching we 
learn, and giving we retain ; ” and it is scarcely 
possible to be much with the young, without falling 
into the habit of instructing them. And this habit 
of hearing and answering infantile and juvenile 
questions, is highly favorable to the development 
of our own minds. It is so when all we do for 
them is in the way of story telling. The single 
habit of telling stories to the young-—especially of 
striving to excel in it—with a view to gain their 
attention, and please and interest them, is of great 
value. 

This disposition conduces greatly, in a young 
wife, to her own happiness. The young instinc¬ 
tively love, and ultimately respect those who sym¬ 
pathize with and love them—those to whom they 
can go when they please, with all the freedom and 
frankness with which they approach their play¬ 
mates. And as they grow up into the world, 
their respect for such elder friends continues and 
increases. But is it not a source of happiness to 
an individual, to find herself surrounded by a rising 
generation who all esteem and love her ? 

Must not this state of things also greatly interest 
and contribute to the happiness of the husband: 
Can he see the companion of his choice gaining ir. 


£70 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


vigor and elasticity of body and mind, and securing 
the love and confidence of those around her, with¬ 
out being himself made happier? Nay, more; 
what husband is there in the world, who is one 
degree above the brute, who will not love, better 
than before, the wife who sympathizes with and 
loves childhood ? And this he may do—I believe 
he often does it—without reference to that increase 
of future domestic comfort and enjoyment of which 
it is eminently prophetic. 

In short, I regard the love of childhood—simple, 
artless and pure as childhood in itself is—to be an 
important element of Christian character. I have 
heard of—ay, I have known—persons who dis¬ 
liked children, some of whom were, in other re¬ 
spects, excellent men and women. But such a 
trait is certainly a great drawback upon human 
excellence. I will not say that they who hate 
infancy and childhood cannot be Christians ; but I 
may say that they cannot be, in this state of feel¬ 
ing, the perfect men and women they desire to be, 
nor the perfect children of their Father in heaven 
which they ought to be. 

For do they not practically forget the affection— 
I was going to say the reverence—for the infantile 
nature, which was manifested by Him who said, 
“ Of such is the kingdom of heaven ? ” Do they 
not forget, or at least overlook the fact, that our 


LOVE OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. 271 

adorable Lord and Redeemer was a great lover 
of infancy, childhood and youth ? And though 
they are sometimes tempted to turn aside, almost 
with a sneer, when they see adults and even old 
people caressing the young, would they turn away 
with disgust at the sight of our common Lord with 
little infants in his arms, and join with the crowd 
of his half followers and half disciples, to wonder 
at, if not to rebuke him ? 

Thus, whether we consider the health and lon¬ 
gevity, the social, intellectual, moral and religious 
improvement, and the present and future happiness 
of the young wife, or the happiness of him whom 
she loves and esteems as she does herself, it is her 
unquestionable interest to strive with all her power, 
to love and respect infancy and childhood. 

But is it possible, I shall be asked, to elicit, by 
cultivation, the love of childhood and the inno¬ 
cence of childhood, where it is wanting ? Most 
undoubtedly. I have already shown that doing 
good produces love, in general; and I have inci¬ 
dentally mentioned some facts which bear directly 
on the point now before us. I have stated a case 
in which an adult, by cultivating the acquaintance 
of a child, soon became much attached to her so¬ 
ciety. Such, there can be but little doubt, would 
be the almost inevitable and unexceptionable re¬ 
sult, in a majority of instances, where a similar 


272 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


course was attempted and persevered in. It is not 
in human nature, depraved as it is, to resist wholly 
the tendency of doing good to produce love in us 
for the person to whom it is done. 

Let her, therefore, who is anxiously desirous of 
loving children, because she believes it would pro¬ 
mote her own and the general happiness, com¬ 
mence a series of kind offices to those around her. 
Let her converse with them, answer their questions, 
tell them stories, hear theirs, and manifest an in¬ 
terest in their happiness. Let not this interest in 
their welfare be assumed—artificial—but sincere. 
Children will soon discover and detest the hypo¬ 
crite. They love simplicity, they love sympathy, 
they return love for love ; but they do not so 
readily return love for mere pretence—for hypo¬ 
crisy. 

Before all this, however—that is, in point of 
date—there must be faith. She who would bring 
herself to love childhood, must first believe it to be 
in her power to do so. She must also believe it 
to be her duty. Faith will remove mountains of 
difficulty. But without faith it is impossible—at 
least almost impossible—to do anything in the 
way of improvement. Both nature and revelation, 
for the most obvious reasons, put faith before 
works—the tree, in the order of precedence, be¬ 
fore its fruits. 


LOVE OF INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. 273 

I wish this principle of putting faith before 
works was better understood. Blair, Addison, and 
other old fashioned moralists, tell us that we should 
fix on and pursue those habits which we know to 
be right and best for us, and custom will soon 
make them agreeable. Here faith, or the belief 
that the habit is best for us, is put in its proper 
place. In the same way, that is, on the same 
principle, as a general rule, may we bring ourselves 
to regard a fellow being, or the form of inanimate 
objects, or even the qualities of food, as agreea¬ 
ble. As soon as we believe it to be our duty to 
love childhood and infancy, that is, as soon as we 
have the faith which is the established pre-requi¬ 
site, the work is more than begun ; it is, prospec¬ 
tively speaking, half accomplished. 


18 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


GIVING ADVICE. 

Advice of females in regard to business. Why it is often 
undervalued. Objections answered. How far advice is 
applicable. Advice in manners and morals. Advice in 
religion. 


If an individual has fallen into the society of 
one of those husbands—for such husbands there 
unfortunately are—who think it beneath their dig¬ 
nity to ask a wife’s advice on any subject what¬ 
ever, supposing her opinion to be of so little value 
as to be scarcely worth the trouble of obtaining, 
then it were better, perhaps, that she should omit 
this chapter, and only read those chapters which 
are more particularly adapted to her wants and 
circumstances. 

But there are husbands to whom the advice of 
a wife will often be of great value; and it is for 
this reason, among many others, that a wife ought 
always to be interested in her husband’s pursuits. 
Most sensible men expect this. They do not, in¬ 
deed, expect them to understand, as intimately as 
themselves, all the details of their occupation ; but 


GIVING ADVICE. 


275 


only that they should have that general knowledge 
of it which will correspond to the knowledge which 
a farmer has of the common mechanical arts, or 
manufactures, or which the mechanic or manufac¬ 
turer has of farming. 

I have known some husbands tvho made it a 
point to tell their wives nothing at all about their 
own concerns, except occasionally, as a mere mat¬ 
ter of favor !—or a tribute to their own praise. If 
they get a good bargain, which often means about 
the same thing as to defraud somebody, they are 
fond enough of relating the achievement. If they 
have had unusual success in some enterprise, and 
have just heard the welcome intelligence, they 
bring home the report. But as to keeping their 
wives constantly acquainted with the state of their 
affairs, they no more think of it than they do of 
communicating it to the Grand Seignior. 

This treatment of the wife has very frequently 
one of these two effects :—It excites her curiosity, 
and leads her to be, at least at certain titnes, what 
he deems impertinently inquisitive, or it discour¬ 
ages and depresses her. In either case, the hus¬ 
band defeats his own intention. 

Woman will not be treated as a slave or an 
ignoramus, with impunity. If she finds her hus¬ 
band has no confidence in her judgment, and gives 
her no account of his concerns, she cedses, at 


276 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


length, to take a deep interest in them, and indeed 
in eveiything which pertains to the happiness of 
matrimonial life. She will, indeed, continue to 
yield to him a sort of passive obedience, so far, at 
least, as not to displease him, nor subject herself 
to positive suffering; but as to making special 
exertions to promote his highest happiness, present 
and future, she will never do it. Indeed, why 
should it be expected ? She falls more and more, 
especially from his example, into the way of act¬ 
ing from selfish motives ; and what selfish purpose 
could she possibly gain by it ? He seems happier 
in proportion as she possesses fewer rational attri¬ 
butes ; and she accordingly not only ceases to 
make progress, but begins, ere long, to float down 
the stream of insignificance. 

One reason which has been urged against mak¬ 
ing the wife familiarly acquainted with the hus¬ 
band’s concerns of business is, that she will be 
likely to divulge things which it is for his interest 
to conceal. Woman, it is thought, finds it very 
difficult to keep a secret; and as there are many 
things in connection with a husband’s business, 
which he may not wish to have the world know, 
it is considered safest to keep everything within his 
own bosom; and the less he says, even to his 
wife, the better. 


GIVING ADVICE. 


277 


Now that there are wives who cannot be safely 
entrusted with a secret, I have no doubt; yet I 
cannot help hoping they are few. Life cannot he 
spent very happily with a companion of whom we 
are every moment fearful, lest she should incau¬ 
tiously say something which she ought not. If a 
husband cannot trust his wife better than this, he 
has made a mistake, it would seem, in marrying 
her. 

But it is said also that, after all, woman’s advice 
is worth very little, even when she fully under¬ 
stands her husband’s concerns, and is worthy of 
his entire confidence. Her judgment, it is said, 
was not intended by the Creator for such things, 
and is comparatively weak. To consult her about 
matters of business is to call her out of her own 
sphere. 

That woman has her own appropriate sphere, 
and that this requires a cast of mind somewhat 
different, in its original structure, from that of man, 
there can be no doubt. Nor is it to be doubted 
that this circumstance, along with her habits, dis¬ 
qualifies her for deciding for the husband, in mat¬ 
ters of business. But to advise is one thing, and 
to decide quite another. 

It is woman’s advice which a judicious husband 
wants, rather than her decisions. Her advice will 
be always valuable to him ; but it will be more so, 


278 THE YOUNG WIFJE. 

in proportion as she is endowed by nature and art 
with what is called good sense, and as she is made 
familiar with facts. The more, in these circum¬ 
stances, he avails himself of her advice, the more 
valuable will he find it. And when I hear that 
such or such a wife has no judgment in regard 
to business matters, I usually think the fault is 
her husband’s, in not having rendered her more 
familiar, day by day, with his business concerns, 
and trained her gradually to the habit of giving 
him her opinion. 

The fact that a wife does not see the whole 
matter, as her husband does, will not disqualify 
her for advising. He must take the advice for just 
what it is worth, with her limited range of vision. 
If, from the nature of the case, he has reason to 
believe she sees but half the object, then be must 
make due allowance, and form corresponding ex¬ 
pectations in regard to the results. To take the 
position that advice is of no value, unless the in¬ 
dividual who gives it sees the whole case, is to 
maintain that nearly all the advice in the world is 
valueless. 

He has certainly overlooked one important end 
of matrimony, who is not in the frequent practice 
of seeking this sort of assistance; that is, of ascer¬ 
taining how, with the facts she has before her, a 
thing strikes his wife. Many an individual would 


GIVING ADVICE. 


279 


have been saved from bankruptcy, bad he done 
so; and from what are the frequent consequences 
of bankruptcy—intemperance, insignificance and 
crime. 

But if it were granted that the advice of woman 
were less valuable, in this respect, than I have 
supposed—if her chief worth, as a counsellor to 
her husband, lay in her ability to afford him aid in 
manners and morals—her worth would still, in this 
respect alone, be inestimable.—I must remember, 
however, that I am not writing for husbands. 

When the husband seeks the advice of his wife, 
let the subject be what it may, she should gladly 
embrace the opportunity of affording her assistance. 
Let her, however, be as careful that her opinion is 
well formed, as she is ready and willing to form 
and give it. She will thus lead him insensibly to 
regard her as his counsellor, and obtain an influ¬ 
ence over him of which she had no previous con¬ 
ception. 

For the more he seeks her advice, the more he 
will learn to regard it. It will, indeed, become, 
from day to day, and from year to year, more 
truly valuable, in its own nature. But this is not 
all. There is nothing, perhaps, in the whole com¬ 
pass of matrimonial life, that endears the parties 
more to each other, than the friendly offices to 
which I now refer. For it should not be over- 


280 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


looked, that what woman is ready to give, in this 
respect, she should also be ready to receive;—nay, 
she should be highly desirous of receiving it. On 
this point, further remarks are, I suppose, unneces¬ 
sary ; because woman, from her very nature and 
circumstances, is led almost involuntarily to man 
as a counsellor. 

In short, here, as elsewhere, we come to the 
conclusion that matrimony is the natural state of 
man ; that no individual of either sex is completely 
educated, or, in other words, rendered perfect, 
without it; and that the more we are accustomed 
to rely on each other as educators, the more we 
perceive each other’s importance in the work of 
education; and the greater our usefulness and 
happiness here, and the more cheering our hopes 
of usefulness and happiness hereafter. 

It is very frequently said that nothing is more 
difficult than for the husband and wife to converse 
together freely on their own religious state. Now 
if this is so, it is deeply unfortunate. Here it is, 
if anywhere on earth, that we ought to find the 
most intimate and free interchange of opinion and 
sentiment. If the wife cannot go to the husband 
with her difficulties, and seek his advice or instruc¬ 
tion, to whom can she go ? The minister is not 
always at hand ; and if he were, would not always 
be the best adviser. She needs counsel and in- 


GIVING ADVICE. 


281 


struction, more than authority and dictation. And 
the same is true of the wants of the husband. 

If the husband and wife regarded each other as 
religious counsellors, and sought each other’s aid 
and assistance in their religious course from day to 
day—if their wants, difficulties, trials, doubts and 
fears were as frequently and as freely laid before 
each other as they are, or should be, before their 
great Friend and Counsellor on high, what a 
change would be effected in the condition of our 
race 1 How soon would this dark world be en¬ 
lightened ! How soon would it bloom as Eden! 
How soon would the wilderness and the solitary 
place be glad, and the moral desert begin to blos¬ 
som as the rose! 

It cannot be denied—it must be confessed—that 
instead of going first to these companions for life, 
for religious counsel, we often go to them, for 
this purpose, last. We seem to dread, in this re¬ 
spect, each other’s society. A greater anomaly 
in human conduct can hardly exist; and yet it is 
a mistake which is almost universally made. 

Let there be, in this particular, a thorough re¬ 
form in social life. Let it be one prominent— 
perhaps I should say the prominent object of the 
husband and wife, to render each other all possible 
instruction and advice in the way to heaven. If 
the wife finds that a perpetual silence reigns on 


282 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


the subject, let her be the first to break it. Not 
indeed abruptly, but in an appropriate and discreet 
manner. She need not be an inquisitor, but only 
a friend. 

Let her begin the work by her own example. 
She has some difficulty in regard to a passage 
of scripture. She seeks the husband’s opinion in 
regard to its meaning. She has doubts in regard 
to the propriety of applying such a promise to her 
own case. She asks her husband to whom—to 
what general class of persons—he thinks it appli¬ 
cable. She gradually, in this way, unbosoms to 
him her own feelings and state, and gets his opinion 
and counsel. And in doing so repeatedly, he will 
be encouraged by her example to pursue the same 
course. 

How strange it is, let me again say, that hus¬ 
bands and wives should, in these matters, stand at 
such a distance from each other! How strange 
that three fourths of them should know less of 
each other’s spiritual state, and hopes, and pros¬ 
pects, than they do of those of their neighbors! 
And why is it so ? Is it not a great practical evil ? 
Is it not an evil which is fundamental ?• And is it 
not one which demands immediate attention and 
correction ? 

As to times and seasons, I have little to say. 
If the husband’s mind were not too frequently so 


GIVING ADVICE. 


283 


crazed with business as to be totally unfitted for it, 
one of the most appropriate seasons for these mu¬ 
tual friendly offices would be the last hour before 
retiring to rest. Such a season has its advantages, 
in every point of view. But let there be some 
hour set apart for the purpose. If it be not made 
the work of a particular hour, or if, when the hour 
arrives for attending to it, we postpone it, or make 
it give place to other duties, no progress, we may 
be assured, will be made. If convinced that it is 
a work of the utmost importance to our present 
and eternal happiness, we must have our times 
and seasons for it; and these times and seasons 
must be as sacred to us as those of secret or family 
prayer, or the hours of the Sabbath. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


SELF-GOVERNMENT. 

Difficulties of self-government. Meaning of the term. Er¬ 
ror in education. What is to be done? Motive to be 
presented. Directions how to proceed. Cooperation of 
the husband. The results happy. 

Nothing is more difficult than the work of 
self-government;—and for various reasons. One 
reason is, we are not trained to it. It is one of 
the last things which are secured, in modern edu¬ 
cation. I grant it is often talked about: but to 
talk about its importance is one thing—to attend 
to it, quite another. 

Solomon observes—“ He that hath no rule over 
his own spirit, is like a city that is broken down, 
and without walls ; ” and again—“ He that ruleth 
his spirit is better than he that taketh a city.” 
Socrates and Seneca, though without the light of 
Christianity, or even of Judaism, appear not only 
to have understood this matter, but to have prac¬ 
tised it, and to an extent which ought to put to 
the blush not a few who call themselves Christians. 
“ I would beat you,” said Socrates, one day, to his 


SELF-GOVERNMENT. 


285 


servant, “ if I were not angry.” And Seneca 
says—“ It is an idle thing to pretend that we can¬ 
not govern our anger; ” and that “ the wildest 
affections may be tamed by discipline.” 

It is not required of woman to preside in halls 
of justice, or to command armies ; but it is required 
of her, no less than of the other sex, to do what is 
more difficult—to govern herself. It is required 
of every living, rational being, to rule or govern 
his own spirit. And the requisition is most rea¬ 
sonable and just. 

I am not, however, speaking of governing our¬ 
selves in regard to temper alone. We are called 
to self-government in a thousand other ways, as 
well as in restraining our anger. All our affections, 
our passions and our appetites, are liable to exceed 
the bounds of moderation, unless they are duly 
regulated, and sometimes repressed. There is 
hardly an hour in a day of even the most placid 
life, in which we are not called to the work of 
self-government. It is true we do not always— 
perhaps, indeed, often—obey the call; and the 
reason is, as I have before said, that we are not 
accustomed to it. We are not inured to the yoke 
from our youth. 

Not only do some parents, and teachers, and 
educators, neglect to train us, by example and 
precept, to govern ourselves, but they go farther, 


286 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


and lead us into temptation. We are surrounded, 
from our earliest infancy, with almost every form 
of physical and mental excitement; and then, 
left as we are without the habit of self-denial, what 
wonder is it, if we make shipwreck ? 

We will suppose, however, that we have so far 
escaped as to reach in safety the harbor of matri¬ 
mony. Suppose, still farther, that we see with 
clearness the perils and dangers to which we have 
been exposed. We see, too, that there are dan¬ 
gers still before us; that without self-government— 
without daily effort and self-denial—the voyage 
of life is still perilous, to ourselves and others. 
What is to be done ? 

Shall we give up the point—perhaps at the 
early age of twenty—and conclude that our case 
is hopeless ?—that our education is complete—all 
our habits formed, and our character, for time and 
for eternity, fixed beyond the hope of alteration ? 
By no means. To do So would be to act in a 
manner wholly unworthy of the dignity of our 
nature, as well as wholly contrary to the will of 
Him who bestowed it. 

It is indeed true that, as a fact of every-day 
life, human character is generally formed, and 
human destiny determined, long before we reach 
the age of twenty years* But it need not be so. 
Man is susceptible of reformation, in a remarkable 


SELF-GOVERNMENT. 


287 


degree, long after this period. The reason why 
so few are reformed, in point of fact, at this late 
period, is not so much because they are unsuscep¬ 
tible of change, as because they have not a hearty 
desire to be changed. Present to the individual 
a motive strong enough, and the difficulties in the 
way will soon gradually disappear. A few of the 
most useful of our race were, in early life, wholly 
unpromising. This is an encouragement, not to 
delay, but against despair. What man has done, 
man may do. 

Such a motive I would gladly present to the 
young wife. She finds herself, I am to suppose, 
at the age of twenty, united for life to one whom 
she earnestly loves, and desires to make happy. 
She has been taught the road to happiness, both 
for herself and her husband. She knows, in some 
degree, the strength of her passions and propensi¬ 
ties. She knows when and where she ought to 
resist them. But to practical resistance she has 
never been accustomed; and therefore when she 
would do good, evil is present with her. The 
temptation comes; but habit has rendered her 
will weak and yielding, and she is carried away 
by the force of the current. She laments over 
it—reproaches herself for it—promises amendment. 
But the temptation again recurs, her will is still 
weak, and she is again overcome by it. 


288 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


And thus she goes on. She knows the right, 
and would pursue it; she knows the wrong, and 
yet follows it. This she could better endure, if it 
affected no one but herself. But her husband, 
too, is a sufferer from her example, and perhaps 
others. She would break the spell that binds her, 
but how can she ? How shall she take the first 
step ? 

She must remove, as much as possible, every 
temptation. She knows that exciting food—food, 
1 mean, which is high-seasoned, or indigestible— 
affects her unhappily. Let her then exchange it 
for that which is better. She knows that late 
evening hours, especially if she have company, 
affect her nervous system : let her learn to retire 
early. She believes fully in the evil tendency of 
coffee and tea : let her, then, banish them from 
her table. She knows, in one word, that every 
physical error affects her moral and intellectual 
character, more or less, and renders her, in a 
greater or less degree, unable to deny herself that 
which she knows to be wrong, and even indirectly 
weakens her power to restrain her propensities, 
and govern her temper. She knows, moreover, 
that every act of disobedience to conscience, even 
in the smallest matter, has a tendency wffiich is 
plainly and directly efficacious, in weakening her 


SELF-GOVERNMENT. 


289 


already feeble will, and inducing her to fall under 
the power of temptation. 

She must therefore resolve strongly to do right 
in the smallest matters. It is in vain, or almost in 
vain, for people to do wrong daily and hourly— 
perhaps a dozen times an hour—in the smaller 
concerns of life, and yet expect to govern them¬ 
selves in larger matters. And yet three fourths 
of mankind seem not so to understand it. They 
suffer themselves to do wrong with impunity— 
even to the extent of harboring feelings of anger 
or revenge, in the little things of life, and yet 
wonder they cannot keep their good resolutions 
of amendment in the greater trials. No mistake 
can be greater, or more fatal. 

Let the wife understand this, precisely as it is, 
and let her form her resolution and begin her work 
accordingly. Let it not be delayed. To put it 
off to-day, is almost equivalent- to a guaranty that 
it shall be put off to-morrow- Let her begin now, 
and let her begin strongly. 

There is one circumstance, perhaps, which 
might justify delay—at least, the delay of a mo¬ 
ment. It is the prospect of bringing your husband 
to a conclusion to join you. The hope of starting 
at the same time, in such a glorious work, and of 
journeying on together, is certainly a just cause 
19 


290 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


for delay—at least, for a few days. Besides, it is 
not wholly lost time. You have a longer season 
for reflection on the nature of your undertaking, 
of strengthening your resolution to persevere, and 
of seeking counsel from above. 

There is nothing more delightful than to see a 
young wife taking the lead in a work of this kind, 
and persevering. We have seen already that self- 
government is no light affair. We have seen—at 
least, I hope it has been made plain—that on it 
depends, under God, much of the comfort and 
happiness of matrimonial life. 

The sight is delightful, not only for its imme¬ 
diate, but for its prospective advantages. To be 
the means of conquering one’s self, and of leading 
a husband to a similar victory, is high praise. But 
this is not all, nor indeed the most. It is but the 
prelude of a better day to coming generations. In 
proportion as parents can be induced to undertake 
the work of self-education, and to acquire the 
habit of completely governing themselves in all 
the relations, and circumstances, and conditions of 
life, in just the same proportion may we look for¬ 
ward with confidence to a reform, in this respect, 
in our whole system of modern education, both in 
the family and in the schools. It is next to im¬ 
possible for parents to taste the joys and blessings 


SELF-GOVERNMENT. 


291 


of such a conquest, and not be desirous of pre¬ 
venting, in their children, that which it has cost 
them so much pains to remove or correct. 

If the work which has thus been proposed were 
beyond the capability of the young wife, or if it 
were within the reach or ability of a favored few 
only, I would insist upon it less strongly. But I 
regard it, on the contrary, as quite within the reach 
and means of all. And happy are they who, 
finding out the errors of their early education, 
begin and persevere in the work of educating and 
reforming themselves, before it is too late. It is, 
indeed, never too late, wholly so, while life lasts ; 
but the earlier we begin, the better. We shall do 
comparatively little, if we do not commence before 
we are forty. 

But happy is the woman who, by a favora¬ 
ble education, has been thoroughly established in 
good habits from the very first—whose meat and 
whose drink it is to take up her cross and govern 
herself daily. She enters upon the matrimonial 
state prepared to go forward at once with joy and 
hope, having escaped both the hindrance and the 
misery of a late repentance. 


\ 


J 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 

Anecdote of Mrs. H. Course of study after marriage. Much 
of it excellent. Cooperation of the husband and wife. 
Nature of education. Difficulties of studying in married 
life. They may be overcome. Importance of system. 
Evils of a want of it. Anecdote. Chemistry. Its im¬ 
portance illustrated by anecdotes and facts. Terrible con¬ 
sequences of ignorance in housewifery. Much poisoning 
in the community. Study of other sciences. Anatomy 
and physiology. A few books recommended. Collateral 
topics of study. Knowledge necessary to benevolent 
effort. Study of the subject of education. Errors. Theory 
and experience. 

Mrs. H. was early married to a person much 
older and better instructed than herself—a lawyer 
by profession. He was one of those men, how¬ 
ever, who place intellectual and moral improve¬ 
ment higher than all things earthly ; and who will 
not forego the improvement of themselves and 
their own families, for the sake of distant and 
more uncertain advantages, however large in the 
prospect. Mrs. H., in short, became, in effect, her 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


293 


husband’s pupil. The following is her own ac¬ 
count of the progress she made while under the 
instruction of her new teacher. 

“ Under his instruction and example, my prose 
style of writing, which the critics generally allow 
to be ‘ pure idiomatic English,’ was formed. I 
acknowledge that my early predilection was for 
the pompous words and sounding periods of John¬ 
son, and I had greatly admired the sublime flights 
and glittering fancies of Counsellor Phillips, the 
Irish orator, then in the meridian of his fame ; but 
my husband convinced me, by analyzing his sen¬ 
tences, that they were, as he had called them, 
‘sublime nonsense.’ 

“We commenced, immediately after our mar¬ 
riage, a system of study, which we pursued to¬ 
gether, with few interruptions, and these unavoida¬ 
ble, during his life. The hours we allotted were 
from eight o’clock in the evening till ten. In this 
manner we studied French and botany, (then al¬ 
most a new science in this country, but for which 
my husband had an uncommon taste,) and ob¬ 
tained some knowledge of mineralogy, geology, 
&lc., besides pursuing a long and instructive course 
of reading.” 

I had not intended to quote farther from this 
instructive autobiographical sketch of a young 
wife; but some of my readers may be interested 


294 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


to know the results; and they are so truly instruc¬ 
tive, that I venture to proceed. 

“ In all our mental pursuits, it seemed the aim 
of Mr. H. to enlighten my reason, strengthen my 
judgment, and give me confidence in my own 
powers of mind, which he estimated much higher 
than I did. I equalled him in imagination, but in 
no other faculty. Yet the approbation which he 
bestowed on my talents has been a great encour¬ 
agement to me, in attempting the duties which 
were to be my portion. 

“ In short, had we known the future, the course 
pursued could not have been more judicious. But 
such a result seemed utterly improbable; for he 
enjoyed the most perfect health, while mine was 
very delicate. Still I was to be the survivor;—he 
died suddenly, as with a stroke—and with him 
seemed to expire every earthly hope. His busi¬ 
ness was large, for the country, but he had hardly 
reached that age when men of his profession begin 
to lay up property, and he had spared no indul¬ 
gence to his family. We had lived in comfort; 
but I was left poor. 

“ For myself, the change added not one particle 
to my grief; but for my children, I was deeply 
distressed. I had five—the eldest only seven years 
of age: how were these to be supported and 
educated ? I cared not that they should inherit 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


295 


wealth—I never coveted great riches—but to be 
deprived of the means of education, was to make 
them ‘ poor indeed.’ At length, after revolving 
the subject deeply in my mind, I attempted to 
provide for their education myself, in some mea¬ 
sure as their father would have done. I resolved 
to devote my whole earthly care to that one ob¬ 
ject, and, relying on Providence, to go onward, 
whatever obstacles might impede. 

“ I am sure that the benevolent reader will be 
glad to learn that I have been, thus far, successful 
in my design. My eldest son, educated at West 
Point, is now a lieutenant in the United States’ 
service, and from his small pay assists me ; and 
my other children are so far advanced in that 
course of education I had marked out, as to give 
me good reason to believe that I shall, in a few 
years, see them intelligent and useful members 
of the community.” 

It is, of course, no purpose of mine to express 
an opinion, in this place, in favor of the entire 
“ course ” of Mrs. H., for herself and family. My 
object is, rather, to show what has been done, and 
consequently, what others can do; and, at all 
events, to encourage study, and a plan of some 
sort. 

I should never select, as a season of study, the 
time between eight and ten o’clock in the evening; 


296 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


but perhaps Mrs. H. had it not in her power to 
select her season. Perhaps her husband’s engage¬ 
ments were of such a nature as to leave him no 
other season or opportunity. It is difficult to be¬ 
lieve this, however. It is difficult to conceive of 
any circumstances which should prevent the possi¬ 
bility of sleeping from eight to ten, and rising and 
studying from four to six in the morning, which 
would have been far more favorable, both to body 
and mind. 

But after every necessaiy abatement, the case 
is one of great importance and interest. Mrs. H. 
was not deficient in talent, natural or acquired, 
when she was married. Yet a plan was immedi¬ 
ately laid for carrying on, through life, an educa¬ 
tion which had been auspiciously begun. It was 
not only laid, but put in immediate execution. 
And above all—which is the highest praise—it 
was persevered in. Too many plans of this kind, 
happily begun, prove abortive, for want of the 
spirit of perseverance. 

The object of this education was also elevated 
and important. It was not so much to fill her 
head with the facts of botany, mineralogy or geo¬ 
logy, as to cultivate reason, judgment and faith. 
It was to fit her, in one word, for the great work of 
female life. It was to educate her in such a manner 
as would best prepare her to educate others. 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


297 


And these, for a time, she did educate. It was 
no small task to have the care of five children, 
the eldest of whom was but seven years old—in 
poverty, too; and what is still worse, with feeble 
health. No wonder, perhaps, that a mother thus 
situated, and probably without servants, should 
feel depressed ; and however prepared by Provi¬ 
dence to sustain the burden and the task, after a 
struggle for years, should yield to the temptation 
which is presented by our fashionable male and 
female boarding schools, and send her children 
from home, though at increased expense, as well 
as risk of character, to complete their education. 

I do not here undertake to say that a young 
wife should wait for the cooperation of her hus¬ 
band. But it is a very happy circumstance, if 
she finds him ready to cooperate with her, even 
at the expense of a little solicitation. It is more, 
indeed, than can often be expected. Few there 
are who will find a husband ready to go forward 
in such a work ; and therefore few ought to ex¬ 
pect it. I grant that the benefits are in a degree 
mutual. No husband can pursue a course of study 
in any science, with his wife, even though he were 
tolerably familiar with it before, without deriving 
signal benefit from it. And if this were the place, 
I would press upon the husband the exceeding 
great importance of such a cooperation. I would 


298 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


conjure him to attend to a system of intellectual 
improvement, for his own sake; but much more 
for the sake of her whom he holds most dear, and 
for the sake of those over whom she is destined 
to have a strong and lasting influence. 

The education of the school is only a prepara¬ 
tion for a future and more extended course of 
study. I know it is often considered otherwise. 
I know it is often thought—at least, if we may 
judge of people’s thoughts by their practice—that 
our education is completed when we leave the 
school. Or if there are a few who think other¬ 
wise—if here and there an individual is found who 
will continue his studies afterward, it is only till 
marriage. Matrimony puts an end, usually, to 
study—I mean, to the study of scientific subjects. 
Perhaps not one married individual in a thousand— 
I fear the proportion is much smaller still—ever 
thinks or dreams of making any farther progress, 
after the wedding day is over. 

And why not ? Can a single reason be given 
in favor of study the week before marriage, which 
shall not be equally in favor of studying the week 
afterwards ? Is knowledge less necessary ? Is it 
less pleasant or desirable ? Are our duties or our 
obligations diminished ? Strange, if it were so. 
Strange that as our relations—the points at which 
we touch the world we live in—are multiplied, our 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


299 


duties should be diminished, and the lights of sci¬ 
ence and the treasures of human wisdom become 
less highly prized, or less necessary. 

It is said that the new relations and new duties 
which marriage imposes consume our time, and we 
have fewer opportunities for making progress than 
before. Yes, they do, if we must follow all the fash¬ 
ions—if we must make as many unmeaning calls, 
and receive as much trifling or useless company, 
as the customs of high life, in modem times, de¬ 
mand, and if our system of house-keeping must 
conform to an arbitrary standard—one which, in¬ 
stead of being based on the love of God and man, 
has for its support—its very pillars—the whim 
and caprice of fools. 

But is there any necessity for this ? Are we 
not bound, on the contrary, as Christians, to set 
our faces, by our practice, against such customs ? 
Are we not bound, in the fear of God, to make 
such arrangements in regard to our houses, our 
help, our furniture, our everything, as will give 
time for all necessary improvement of the mind ? 
Is it not an obvious wrong—a serious one—to pur¬ 
sue a course, as multitudes do, which shall effectu¬ 
ally exclude it ? 

When I allude to unmeaning calls and useless 
company, I am far from intending to intimate that 
all our calls—all social intercourse—should be 


300 


THE YOUNG WIPE. 


banished. On the contrary, I consider social in¬ 
tercourse as indispensable as our daily bodily food; 
and on this point, I shall say something in a future 
chapter. But I do say, with the utmost confi¬ 
dence, that a kind of social intercourse which ex¬ 
cludes individual study—which, in short, prevents 
married life from being a school for mutual im¬ 
provement, even in science—is not to be encour¬ 
aged by those who call themselves Christians, nor 
even by those who lay claim to an ordinary share 
of sound common sense. 

I care not how wise the young wife or the 
young husband may be, when their union is con¬ 
summated. I care not if they are both as wdse 
as the distinguished female with whose history I 
commenced this chapter. I care not, did I say ? 
It is not so. I do care. The wiser the better. 
The wiser they are, the more true wisdom they 
possess—the greater will be the security that the 
fires which are applied to the altar of Hymen will 
not, at the same time, destroy all books and study. 
Mrs. H. came not to the altar with an uncultivated 
mind. It was her love of study, joined to that of 
her husband, which led them to plan and execute 
a project, the effects of which will be felt in 
future generations, until time shall be no longer. 
Nor did the whole care and burden of five very 
young children smother the thirst for knowledge 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 30 i 

which a long course of mutual study had enkin¬ 
dled. 

It is far from being in my power to point out 
a course of study which shall be adapted to the 
wants and circumstances of all young married 
people. The previous studies and modes of 
thinking, and especially the predilections, will and 
should be considered, especially if the young wife 
is to study alone. If she is to have the company 
of her husband, his habits and preferences too, 
are to be taken into consideration ; and one or 
the other must make concessions—not to say 
sacrifices : I mean, of inclination. The wife, per¬ 
haps, will be fond of natural science, while the 
husband will be fond of history—-civil, political 
and ecclesiastical. Or she will prefer botany) 
while he prefers chemistry. But there is no need 
of difficulty. Each, for the sake of the other, 
must be willing to yield their own preferences ; 
and no wife of good sense will prefer studying 
botany alone, as the first step, to the pursuit of a 
highly valuable science in which she can have 
company. She should be especially ready to yield 
her will to his, in matters of this kind, when she 
considers that it is less the object of all education 
to teach facts—to impart knowledge, properly so 
called—than to discipline the mental powers and 
faculties. 


302 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


And yet, free to make this confession as I am, 1 
am still of opinion that improvement in mere science 
is of inestimable importance to all mankind; and 
to no person more so than the young housewife. 
Her great business, as I have repeatedly said, is 
education. She takes not a step which does not 
educate herself, her husband or others. So surely 
as she lifts a finger, or utters a word, or gives a 
direction, or casts an approving or disapproving 
look, that modifies the feelings, or the affections, 
or the conduct, or the health, of those around her, 
so surely does she become their educator—the 
fonner of their character for time or for eternity, 
or both. I know I am liable to repeat, in forms 
scarcely varied, this truth. But I am not unwil¬ 
ling to do so. It is a great and important truth; 
and were it as well applied by Christians as it is 
understood and admitted by them in theory, it 
would materially change the aspect of the whole 
civilized world. 

To those who are duly prepared for the work, 
nothing will afford more intense interest than the 
study of education. The great difficulty to be 
met, in this pursuit, is the want of suitable books. 

One who is determined on mastering this great 
science may, indeed, derive much light from books 
of various kinds, in different departments. The 
Bible is full of instruction to the young educator, 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT 


303 


embodied not only in abstract principles, but in 
living examples. So is profane history. So is 
biography. So is narrative, and even fiction. In 
short, go where we will, in books or among men, 
and the volume of education is wide open, in 
which “ he who runs may read.” 

There are books, however, which are particu¬ 
larly adapted to the wants of the young educator. 
Nor are they so rare as might at first view be 
supposed. It is not true, though the statement 
has often been made, that we have no books on 
education. A long catalogue might be made out, 
if this were the place for it, of just such volumes 
as would be eagerly read by any individual whose 
mind has been so far expanded as to perceive, in 
this respect, its own ignorance, and who has 
acquired either a thirst for knowledge in this de¬ 
partment, or a desire for improvement in general. 

But pursue what subject she may, alone or in 
company, the young wife must be systematic. 
She must have her hours for study, and those must 
be sacred to that object. No ordinary circum¬ 
stance must be an excuse for omitting it a single 
day. It is true that there are difficulties in the 
way of carrying out a plan of this kind. The 
last hours of the day or the first in the morning 
are undoubtedly the best; and as I have else¬ 
where said, I greatly prefer the latter. I do so 


304 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


oecause the head is then usually most clear, and 
the body and mind most vigorous ; because it is a 
season for study more favorable to health than the 
evening, and because it is a season in which there 
is less probability of interruption than in any other. 

I insist upon a set time for study, especially for 
married people, because I do not believe a success¬ 
ful course, on the most favorite topic or science, 
will ever be pursued under any other circumstances. 
Life is made up of so much variety, and there are 
so many demands, in one form or another, upon 
our time, that if we do not fix upon a particular 
season, and adhere to it, we shall gradually be led, 
almost inevitably, to omit it altogether. 

I knew a young couple who set out in life with 
the most determined resolution to make it a part 
of their daily duty to study some favorite science. 
But they had never agreed upon a particular hour, 
or branch of study ; and for the first few weeks 
after their union, found it somewhat difficult to fix 
upon any subject or season which was not objec¬ 
tionable. One preferred history ; the other geo¬ 
logy. One preferred the evening; the other the 
morning. One was disposed to delay the work for 
a few months,' until such an object was accom¬ 
plished, and such an arrangement completed ; the 
other chose to go on immediately. At length a 
book of great general interest coming in their way, 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


305 


it was decided to read that together at stated inter¬ 
vals, and take up the study of something, as a 
study , at a future time. But as no hour was fixed 
upon, this was not done. Not a quarter of the 
book was read until another appeared of greater 
interest, and the first was abandoned. Perhaps 
the second was read through, though I am not 
certain even of this. 

But of one thing T am certain, which is, that 
though a few books were read, a greater number 
were begun and never finished ; and the study of 
any particular science was deferred from month to 
month, till the lapse of almost a year, when mutual 
shame for their delay drove them to resolve on 
something, and upon a set time in which to do it; 
and now it was, and not until now, that a course 
of study was commenced in earnest, which, it may 
be hoped, will not be discontinued except with the 
life of one of the parties.—I say, therefore, that 
the great point is to fix on a subject, and make a 
beginning, and pursue that subject uninterruptedly 
till it is finished ; I mean, till we have gone as far 
in it as we intended on setting out. The pleasure 
of mastering a work is, to most persons, the highest 
reward for their past toil, and the most powerful 
stimulus to future exertion. 

If I were to mention a single science which I 

conceive to be of importance to house-keepers, it 
20 


306 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


would be chemistry. I speak now, however, of 
the sciences which have usually been taught in our 
schools and colleges. For, independent of custom 
or public sentiment, I regard human anatomy and 
physiology as the science which stands first in 
point of importance to all mankind ; but as second 
to this, and perhaps introductory to it, on the list, 
I place chemistry. 

The importance of chemistry to the housewife, 
though admitted in words, seems, after all, but 
little understood. How can we hope to urge her 
forward to the work of ventilating and properly 
cleansing her apartments and her furniture, until 
she understands not only the native constitution of 
our atmosphere, but the nature of the changes 
which this atmosphere undergoes in our fire rooms, 
our sleeping rooms, our beds, our cellars, and our 
lungs ? How can we expect her to cooperate, with 
all her heart, in the work of simplifying and im¬ 
proving cookery, simplifying our meals, and re¬ 
moving, step by step, from our tables, objectionable 
articles, or deleterious compounds, until she under¬ 
stands effectually the nature and results of fermen¬ 
tation, as well as of mastication and digestion ? 
How can we expect her to detect noxious gases, 
and prevent unfavorable chemical changes, and 
the poisonous compounds which sometimes result, 
and which have again and again destroyed health 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 307 

and life, while she is as ignorant as thousands are, 
who are called housewives, of the first principles 
of chemical science ? Would it not be to expect 
impossibilities ? 

A great multitude of facts might be stated to 
illustrate the importance of a knowledge of the 
principles of chemistry to those who have the 
superintendence of household concerns, from which, 
however, I will select only one or two of the more 
prominent. 

Late in the autumn of 1814, a severe disease 
broke out at Elizabethtown, in Pennsylvania, and 
many who were attacked with it died. It was 
subsequently traced by the physicians, among 
whom was the distinguished Dr. Eberle, to the fol¬ 
lowing cause :—The manufacture of common red 
earthen ware had been recently commenced in 
that neighborhood, and many of the inhabitants, 
for the first time, had supplied themselves with the 
wares ; and among the rest, with a quantity of 
deep jars. Into these jars they had put their apple 
butter, or applb sauce. The acid of the apple 
sauce coming in contact with the glazing, which 
consisted of an oxyd of lead, had dissolved it, and 
formed acetate of lead (sugar of lead.) 

The effects of sugar of lead, when received into 
the human stomach, are pretty well known. It is 
a slow but sure poison ; and when taken in any 


308 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


sonsiderable quantity, or in a smaller quantity for 
a long time, gives rise to what is called painters’ 
colic. The people of Elizabethtown had eaten 
very freely of the apple sauce ; and the sugar of 
lead which it contained produced the terrible re¬ 
sults. 

Now I have no doubt that multitudes of indi¬ 
viduals in our community are poisoned more or less 
in the same way. A great many—probably a 
majority of the families of this community—use 
this very sort of ware more or less every year; 
and not a few of them put acids into it. I have 
seen numbers of these jars in daily family use, with 
the glazing off; and have no reason to doubt that 
somebody had been poisoned with it. I do not 
say that they were probably destroyed; for nothing 
is more common, than for culinary poisons to pro¬ 
duce mischief, whose effects do not become visible 
for months or years. 

On this subject I must be permitted to linger for 
a moment. People tell us, in reply to remarks 
like the foregoing—“ Why, we have always used 
these jars in our family, more or less, and our 
fathers before us, and nobody has ever been poison¬ 
ed ; ” or in reply to our remarks about the danger 
of eating or drinking certain mixtures or com¬ 
pounds—“ Why, it has always been customary to 
use them, and yet. forsooth, you have just now 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 309 

found out they are injurious.” Yes, it has always 
been customary to use them, I grant; but it has 
also been customary to be sick. How do you 
know how much of the disease which has pre¬ 
vailed in the community has been the effect of the 
very causes of which I am speaking ? 

Diseases are chiefly produced by the errors of 
mankind, in one way or another; and is it not 
reasonable to believe that a very full proportion 
of them are the result of the ignorance or unskil¬ 
fulness of housewives ? He who is most ready to 
answer this question negatively, is probably least 
acquainted with facts. 

How many times have I seen apples which were 
baked or stewed in an iron bason, turned brown or 
almost black by the process. They are stained by 
the kettle, we are told. And yet the kettle is 
clean. The truth is, the acid of the apple com¬ 
bines with a small portion of oxydized iron, and 
forms a substance not unlike copperas, which 
colors the apples. If the acid which is thus active 
is, in reality, the sulphuric acid—I suppose it is 
not—the substance which is formed is sulphate of 
iron, or copperas—a compound which everybody 
knows is rank poison. At any rate, there is every 
reason to fear that most kinds of food which are 
colored, as it is called, by the kettle or vessel in 
which they are prepared or kept, is poisoned. 


310 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


But these are only specimens of the mischief to 
which the community are exposed by the ignorance 
of housewives upon this subject. I might mention 
hundreds of others. I might prove that the hand 
of ignorance cannot set a fashionable table in a 
single instance, without endangering, in a greater 
or less degree, the health of those who are to par¬ 
take of the immense variety of its contents, either 
by presenting something which is poisonous before 
it is received, or which becomes poisonous by new 
chemical combinations. 

I know it is doubted by many whether chemical 
changes ever take place in a healthy stomach; 
and such persons will at once say that what is not 
poisonous before it is taken into the stomach, can¬ 
not become poisonous after it is received. Granted 
this were true, it would not follow that these 
changes could not take place in a stomach which 
is diseased, or even debilitated ; and as I am ready 
to maintain that nearly every human stomach is 
thus at fault, more or less, the results to the indi¬ 
vidual may still be as 1 have supposed. 

In fact, a person may be poisoned, in a certain 
sense, by suddenly returning from a luxurious to a 
simple course of eating. Suppose he had been 
long in the habit of using much animal food, which 
is highly alkaline and exciting. He suddenly 
abandons it, but not only continues the same 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


311 


quantity of food as before which has an acid ten¬ 
dency, and whose over-acidity the meat had hith¬ 
erto operated to correct, but, by way of compensa¬ 
tion for his abstinence from flesh, greatly increases 
its quantity. The stomach, too, in the case sup¬ 
posed, having been long excited by the presence 
of the flesh meat, appears for a time to be debili¬ 
tated. How long, in these circumstances, will it 
be before there will be a predominance of acid in 
this organ ? And how long, if the evil is continued, 
before the individual will become the prey of dis¬ 
ease ? 

Is it then unsafe to return from bad to correct 
habits ? By no means, if the return is gradual. 
No, nor if the return is sudden, provided it is done 
according to science. But the danger is in making 
sudden changes at hap-hazard. 

I have dwelt at so much length on the danger 
of ignorance in a housewife, that I must reluctantly 
omit many other illustrations of equal, perhaps 
superior importance. I might attempt to show 
how many thousands of the human race, in a 
highly civilized, or rather an over-refined state, have 
become the victims of scrofula, consumption, bowel 
complaints, dropsy in the head, &c. &c. through 
the mother’s ignorance of the laws of chemistry 
and physiology. 


312 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


The notion that this view would impeach the 
wisdom and goodness of the Creator, is not true. 
The Creator did not, philosophically speaking, 
create the present state of things. What we call 
a state of high cultivation and refinement, is no 
more the workmanship of the Creator than a mere 
savage state ; nor does it much better promote his 
purposes in the redemption of man. Without the 
balance wheel of pure and undefiled Christianity, 
society will probably continue to vibrate from the 
extreme of a savage state on the one hand, to the 
extreme of a sensual refinement on the other, and 
from the latter to the former. Our hope is, that 
with it, whenever its influences shall be made to 
pervade the whole social—especially the domestic 
—circle, it will probably settle down into a happy 
medium between the two. 

Natural philosophy is also of great value, as a 
science, to the house-keeper. So is botany ; and 
so is zoology, and indeed almost every branch 
of natural history. But of all the natural sciences, 
anatomy and physiology, together with the natural 
history of man, are preeminently important to the 
mistress of every family, whether her influence is 
to be greater or smaller. For this, chemistry— 
domestic chemistry, at least—is one of the best 
possible preparatives ; and it is for this reason, in 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


313 


part, that so much space has been devoted to the 
consideration of its importance. 

Anatomy and physiology, together with the 
natural history of man, may be a leading subject 
of study for years. I can conceive of no topic, 
except religion, which will be at once so valuable 
as a discipline to the mental faculties, so rich in 
instruction, as a means of future usefulness, or so 
full of interest in the pursuit; provided, however, 
a few obstacles can be overcome, which usually 
present themselves at our entrance upon the course. 
I allude to the unnatural association in most minds 
of anatomy and physiology with the mangling of 
living bodies, and to the difficulty of obtaining 
suitable books to assist us. 

The first difficulty can only be overcome gradu¬ 
ally, as we proceed in our course. The second is 
not to be overcome wholly, till some of those who 
are capable of performing the task, have prepared 
for us a set of better books for popular use than 
any which have hitherto appeared on the subject. 
Something, however, may be accomplished with 
the few books we have—imperfect as most of 
them are, and full of technicalities. As to removing 
all difficulties in the pursuit of science, it is 
scarcely to be expected; nor is it desirable. It is 
the effort to overcome difficulties that, more than 
anything else, gives strength to human character. 


314 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


If I were to recommend to a young couple 
what course to take in the study of anatomy and 
physiology, I would say—Begin with Paley’s 
Theology. Then take up and read Combe’s 
Constitution of Man, rejecting, if you choose, the 
phrenological part; though if a person has time 
enough I would advise him to study phrenology. 
Next to Combe’s work, I should recommend the 
study of Lawrence’s Lectures on Physiology, Zo¬ 
ology, and the Natural History of Man. Combe’s 
Principles of Physiology may now be advantage¬ 
ously studied; and afterward some of the more 
complete and scientific works on physiology. By 
this time, and not in my opinion before, if the cir¬ 
cumstances will possibly admit of so much delay, 
we are prepared to study books on health, such as 
Johnson’s Economy of Health, Willich’s Lectures 
on Diet and Regimen, Dunglison’s Elements of 
Hygiene, &c. 

Nor is it much sooner that the young wife can, 
with entire safety, study the nature or cure of dis¬ 
ease, either infantile or adult. Indeed, as I have 
elsewhere shown, I do not think the study of 
medicine and disease, properly so called, to be 
a part of female duty, except as a matter of 
curiosity, and with a view to prevention. If 
parents knew the nature of disease, and especially 
its causes, it would undoubtedly aid them greatly 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


315 


in the work of prevention ; and with this view— 
and not to render every one “ his own doctor ”— 
I am willing they should look over such a work as 
Buchan’s Domestic Medicine. 

I have taken it for granted, that in the study of 
this great subject, the husband and the wife pro¬ 
ceed together. If not—if the wife were to proceed 
alone, and without so much as the sympathy of 
her husband, the course I should recommend would 
be somewhat different; though perhaps not essen¬ 
tially so. The principal point of variation would 
consist in the alternation of physiological with 
collateral subjects ; as travels, voyages, geography, 
history, and especially the Bible. All these, while 
they acquaint us with human nature, externally 
and internally, do, at the same time, afford us 
much information in regard to man’s physiological 
and dietetic character. 

Those who have never paid an hour’s attention, 
in their whole lives, to the science of human life, 
have no conception of the immense advantages it 
would give them, not only in forming a proper 
estimate of character, in general, but in directing 
their efforts in every measure which concerns hu¬ 
man improvement. The minister of the gospel 
will labor to far greater purpose—other things 
being equal—when he understands the whole na¬ 
ture of those for whose benefit he labors. The 


316 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Christian parent—the father or the mother—will 
perform his task, I had almost said infinitely better, 
when he understands the physical nature of those 
whom God has directed him to train up in the way 
they should go. The same may be said of all 
sorts of teachers. And I might add, in conclusion, 
that the same might be said of every individual 
under the whole heaven, who has received but the 
second table of the moral law—Thou shalt love 
thy neighbor as thyself. Constituted as the world 
now is, and involved, as it is, in a general moral 
obliquity from Jehovah, which a pseudo refinement 
has by no means a tendency to remove, it is, to say 
the least, questionable whether an individual effort 
can be made for its renovation in any respect, 
which would not be at least two fold more effec¬ 
tive when made under the light and guidance of 
physiological knowledge. 

The call is often made, in these times, on the 
young wife, to embark in a war against vice in 
some of its more heinous or offensive forms ; and 
the individual has, of course, no alternative but to 
enlist or refuse. But if she refuses, she is expected 
to be able to give her reasons. Can she do this ? 
What female sufficiently understands thoroughly 
these subjects ? 

Let me not be understood, in this place, as call¬ 
ing in question the propriety of voluntary associa- 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


317 


tions for the accomplishment of benevolent pur¬ 
poses. Whatever my private opinion may be on 
this point, this is not the place for it. What I 
principally insist on is, that since woman, in the 
present attitude of society, is continually called 
upon to act or refrain from acting, it is of very 
great importance that she should act right. 

Suppose, for example, she is expected to join 
what is now called a “ Moral Reform Society.” 
She has no doubt of the existence of the evils 
which it is the object of these associations to re¬ 
move. Or if she had doubts on the subject, a 
judicious lecturer would probably, in a single hour, 
remove them. But the question is—how shall 
they be removed ? In order to understand this, it 
is necessary to trace them to their causes. But 
this I venture to say, without the light of physi¬ 
ology, she cannot do. Yet, without knowing the 
causes either of moral or physical evil, we labor in 
the dark to remove it. We may strike right, or 
we may not; all is a matter of hap-hazard. 

So it is in regard to intemperance. Females 
are expected to associate for the removal of this 
desolating scourge. But will they move a step for 
this purpose in the dark ? Will they join in an 
attack on an evil of whose causes—yes, and whose 
nature, too—they are grossly ignorant? Yes, 
they can ; as facts will abundantly testify. They 


318 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


can, if they will, proceed in ignorance, as many 
of the other sex do. They can join in efforts to 
remove a thing which they do not understand. 
But to remove one branch of a noxious shrub or 
tree is not to destroy it. The wiser course would 
be to undermine, or dig up and destroy, the parent 
stock. 

It is certainly proper and seemly for females 
who engage in the benevolent projects of the 
present day, to know how to apply their efforts. 
If the foundations of intemperance and licentious¬ 
ness are laid in the family, before the infant has 
emerged from the cradle—if the seeds of these 
terrible woes are sown by mothers and nurses, and 
those who inhabit the abodes of infancy, and guide 
and direct the infantile affections—if the hot tea, 
and the strong coffee, and the cider barrel, and the 
high seasoned food, first tempt the drunkard into the 
broad but downward road, and the amorous looks, 
and tones, and language of those who even think 
themselves pure “ in all manner of conversation,” 
first pave the way to licentiousness—is it not 
almost in vain for the mother to leave the domestic 
circle to join in a crusade, be it ever so holy or so 
necessary, against evils which have their origin 
under her own eye, or at least within her own 
precincts ? Will she not do more by being, as the 
apostle terms it, a keeper at home ? Or if not— 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 319 

if she is mistaken in her views—is it no source of 
satisfaction to her to be able to state her objections 
when she refuses to join in noisy public measures ? 

But this, I say again, no female can understand- 
ingly do, until she has become a thorough student 
in physiology. She will then learn—and not 
before—that if “ temperance in all things ” is her 
motto, she is already constituted by the Creator 
the president of a Society within her own doors ; 
and that she is not likely soon to be out of a 
sphere for benevolent effort. 

These views lead us once more to the remark, 
that the great office of women is that of an educa¬ 
tor. And if so, it may now be added, that her 
favorite topic of study should be education. Not 
mere instruction ; for that is but a part—I think a 
very small part—of education; but the formation 
of character, physical, intellectual, social, moral 
and religious—its formation, both for time and for 
eternity. 

Many persons turn away in disgust at the idea 
of studying education as a science. They seem 
to suppose that skill to train up the young is acci¬ 
dental ; or rather that it is a peculiar gift of Heaven 
bestowed upon a few; and that the mass of 
parents and teachers, study it as much as they 
may, must forever grope their way in the world 
without it. 


320 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


It would be strange indeed, if the command to 
train up a child in the way he should go, were 
given to all mankind, while only a few were able 
to follow it. Yet such, if we examine the case, is 
the general belief. They admit that we are com¬ 
manded to train up children for God ; and yet 
they think the greater part of our race so consti¬ 
tuted by nature that the thing cannot be done. 
First, that constitutional defects are in the way. 
One child, we are told, is naturally of such an 
unmanageable temper, or has such a natural tem¬ 
perament, that he cannot be governed. Secondly, 
we are told that many of us are born without the 
talent or faculty, as I have heard it called, of gov¬ 
erning. 

Now no reasonable person will deny that there 
are constitutional differences both in children and 
adults. Nor will any one, as it seems to me, deny 
that some persons have not the art or capacity to 
govern. They were never themselves taught to 
obey ; and herein is the grand difficulty. 

What is first wanted in a person, is faith in him¬ 
self ; confidence in his own capacity for improve¬ 
ment. When this is acquired, and a course of 
study settled on, the work of self-education and of 
fitting ourselves to train others, for God and for eter¬ 
nity, is already, in prospect, achieved. “ He hath 
his work half done, who hath it well begun,” is 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


321 


an old maxim ; but he hath it more than half done 
who hath begun it with faith. There is a deep 
and important meaning in the statement, that faith 
can remove mountains. 

The young wife who has begun a course of 
chemical or physiological study with full faith in 
her power to understand it and render her know¬ 
ledge available, will find encouragement at every 
step of her progress. Then when she comes to 
study history, sacred and profane, she will find her 
knowledge of herself and those around her deep¬ 
ened from almost every page. She learns from it 
what are the great springs of human action. This 
is especially true of the study of sacred history. 
So ample is the knowledge of humanity as well as 
of divinity, which the study of the Bible imparts, 
that I have sometimes thought, for the moment, we 
needed no other volume on education than this. 
But when I come to reflect farther, I do not fail 
to perceive that other volumes have their advan¬ 
tages. 

When a broad view has been taken of the 
fields of natural science, and the Bible has been 
extensively, and warmly, and faithfully studied as 
a key to the mind and heart, it will be useful to* 
examine some of the better systems of mental 
philosophy. The philosophy of the mind can 
never be too well understood ; and he who thinks 
21 


322 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


his knowledge of human nature is already profound 
enough, and on this account refuses to read books 
which treat on the subject, affords the best possible 
evidence of his own ignorance. 

It will be seen that I have advanced, in the last 
paragraphs, very different views from those usually 
entertained on two points, viz., the acquisition of a 
knowledge of human nature, and of the art of 
governing and educating. The general opinion 
has been, that the former is only acquired from 
observation and experience, and that books furnish 
us no aid, and that the latter is a peculiar gift, 
with which reading and the study of books have 
little or nothing to do. Whereas, I maintain that 
the study of man, in books on chemistry, physi¬ 
ology, history and philosophy, though not sufficient 
of itself to do everything, is yet an indispensable 
aid ; and when common sense is not wanting, may 
effect great changes in the whole character of the 
individual who studies them. 

Nothing will be sooner repelled by most people 
than the charge that they are ignorant of human 
nature. You may represent them as ignorant of 
almost everything else but this, and they will 
endure it. But in the knowledge of human nature 
every one is ready to regard himself as not merely 
skilful, but profound. And yet, if the view I have 
taken of the general state of things is correct, this 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


323 


is among the best of proofs of our ignorance of the 
very subject on which we most pride ourselves. 

There is however a dislike, almost equally gen¬ 
eral, to studying the subject of education. Many 
who think it important to read and investigate on 
nearly every other topic refuse to read or think on 
this. They will often purchase books and sub¬ 
scribe for periodicals to the extent of a hundred 
dollars a year, embracing almost every topic of the 
day ; but present to them the claims of a work on 
education of the highest celebrity and most ac¬ 
knowledged importance, and they are prone to turn 
away with indifference, if not with disgust. 

This is a work on education, and will therefore, 
it may be, share the same fate. It certainly will, 
unless the reader brings to the task of its perusal 
very different views and feelings from many which 
at the present day prevail. It will, if she comes 
to its perusal with the vague, but general belief that 
she is too old to improve by reading or study on 
any subject, whether of much or little importance. 
It will, if she cannot get rid of the prevalent 
notion that the art of governing and educating the 
young is one of mere hap-hazard ; one on which 
books—I had almost said reason—have little to do. 
It will, also, if she cannot get rid of the errone¬ 
ous idea, that she has no time to devote to the 


324 


THE YOUNG WIFE* 


important business of educating herself, or prepar¬ 
ing to aid in the education of others. 

I am not ignorant of the grand objection, brought 
at the present day, to all efforts for self-improve¬ 
ment—a want of time. We hear it from every¬ 
body, at all ages above the merest childhood—and 
from persons of all circumstances and conditions. 
If there be a difference, however, we hear it most 
frequently from those who are in the best circum¬ 
stances, in a pecuniary point of view ; and who 
ought to be the least forward to make it. 

But let me say, once for all, as preliminary to 
what is to follow in this chapter and the two 
subsequent ones, that it seems surprising to me 
that those who call themselves Christians, should 
submit quietly to a state of things—a slavery to 
fashion—which demands the consumption of nearly 
the whole amount of the time which God has 
given us in which to educate ourselves for the 
great future of this life and the next, in the mere 
drudgery of the body. We admit in words the 
inferiority of our animal to our intellectual and 
moral nature, and yet we spend almost the whole 
of our waking hours in gratifying the wants of the 
former; and do it cheerfully. Nay, worse than this, 
we seem to task our minds and put in requisition 
to their full extent our inventive powers to devise 
other luxuries and extravagances, to impel us to 


INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 


325 


greater industry, [f by human art the sun could 
be stopped a few hours in its daily course, so as to 
give us, every day, as once in the time of Joshua, 
thirty instead of fifteen hours for labor, the spirit 
of the age, in its devotion to Fashion, would soon 
find means to consume all this time on the wants 
of the perishing body, while the immortal mind 
and heart might go, as they are now compelled to 
do, unheeded and neglected. 

We are Christian in profession, but infidel in 
practice. We profess to live for the future, while 
in reality, we live for the present. We compli¬ 
ment knowledge and virtue, and their divine 
author, while our real sincere homage is rendered 
to animal pleasure. We talk of heaven, and of 
having our conversation and thoughts in it, while 
our affections are of the earth, earthy. We pro¬ 
fess to worship God, but we love mammon. We are 
too much like those of whom it was once said by 
an inspired man—“ whose God is their stomach.’’ 

The principles of education—the more impor¬ 
tant ones I mean—are few and simple. Still, to 
acquire them in such a manner as to render them 
useful to us in practice, is not by any means a 
small matter. It is easy to state some of them, in 
a work like this; but it is not easy so to state them 
that they may occupy the same place in other’s 


326 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


minds that they do in our own, or have the same 
relative importance. 

I may say, for example, that consistency is one 
of the great secrets in governing a child ; that, 
however valuable modes or systems are, consis¬ 
tency is more so. But no reader can estimate 
this principle, as soon as she receives it, just as I 
do. She needs illustrations of my meaning, by 
examples of the application and misapplication of 
the principle; and for these she needs books, and 
observation, and even experience. And the same 
is true of any other principle I might advance. 

The truth is, that the Creator, for reasons best 
known to himself, has not permitted us to transmit 
or receive the opinions, or even the recorded expe¬ 
rience of each other entire, in such a way as to 
make it at once available. Our own minds, like 
the stomach in the reception of food, must act 
upon and digest the most enlightened and ap¬ 
proved experience ere it becomes our own pro¬ 
perty. Hence the use of books, which, on the 
subject of education, should consist chiefly of 
experience rather than abstract principles; or in 
which to render them most useful, experience rather 
than theory should greatly predominate. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 

Anecdote of Alcibiades. Intention of the Creator. Mar¬ 
riage of course a social state. Morning calls. Evening 
visits. Excitements. Balls and Theatres. Visiting in the 
afternoon. Social advantages of large families. Visiting 
by large companies. Topics of conversation. Scandal. 
Opposition of human nature to the gospel. Reading at 
social meetings. An important caution. 

It is recorded of Alcibiades, that he had the art 
of conforming himself to the habits, tastes and 
opinions of whatever company he happened to be 
in ; of “ turning either to good or evil with the 
same facility and ardor, and shifting almost in an 
instant from one extreme to its opposite.” Now 
what Alcibiades could do in a remarkable degree, 
almost every individual has the power of doing in 
a degree greater or less, according to circum¬ 
stances. Nor is this all. The impression which 
is made by any company we are in is seldom 
entirely lost. However unconscious we may be 
of the fact, we are probably affected, more or less, 
by every social interview of life. 


328 


THE, YOUNG WIFE 


Nor is this susceptibility of impression to be 
regretted. The Creator probably intended it as a 
means of our improvement. It is true, we catch 
bad habits, manners and opinions, as well as those 
which are correct; but there is no necessity for 
this. We are permitted to choose our society. 
And it is on the wisdom of our choice, for our¬ 
selves and for our children, pupils and wards, that 
much of the good or evil of human society is 
made to depend. He will be wise—and happy, 
too—who associates with wise companions ; but 
in the expressive language of the Bible, the com¬ 
panion of fools shall be destroyed. 

If these views are correct—and it is presumed 
no one will doubt their correctness—then we may 
derive from them two important rules for human 
conduct. First, that it is our duty, in all the 
varied circumstances of life, to associate with our 
fellow creatures; and secondly, that it is our duty 
to be “ wise as serpents ” in the selection of our 
associates. 

Of the manner in which children should asso¬ 
ciate, and of the pains which parents should take 
in selecting the companions of their sports, studies, 
&.C., it is not my intention, at present, to speak, 
though they are of unquestionable importance, 
even to the young wife. 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 


329 


The circumstance of becoming a wife, ensures 
at least one important means of social improve¬ 
ment. She who has but one constant associate 
need not be a hermit. She may make much intel¬ 
lectual and moral progress by this means alone. 
But she need not and should not confine herself to 
a circle so narrow. She has relatives and neigh¬ 
bors ; perhaps brethren and sisters in the church. 
These have their claims on her, and she has claims 
on them. The question at present will be, in 
what method or methods shall these claims be dis¬ 
charged. 

1. Not by morning calls, as they are frequently 
denominated. I have a most unconquerable aver¬ 
sion to all sorts of “ calls,” as they are usually 
made in cities, and populous towns and villages. 
They seem so hollow and so useless, and such a 
waste of valuable time, that I wish the whole tribe 
of them could become extinct. 

Morning calls, however, I regard as more objec¬ 
tionable than any other. The morning is the best 
time for labor, and study, and personal improve¬ 
ment ; and some persons are so much accustomed 
to the good old way of spending the whole of the 
time before dinner in some one of these employ¬ 
ments, that morning calls annoy them exceedingly. 
A few, it is true, will not suffer themselves to be 
annoyed in this way ; and accordingly they refuse 


330 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


to see any company at this hour, unless on very 
extraordinary occasions. But others have nerves, 
and are wanting more in moral courage. 

If people are careful to rise in proper season, 
and make a diligent use of all the time till noon, 
they may then afford to spend some time in social 
visits. Of the peculiar advantages of afternoon 
visits, I am to speak presently. 

2. Evening visits are, as a general rule, objec¬ 
tionable, especially when begun at a late hour, 
and attended by a great number of persons. The 
reasons why this season for visiting is objectionable, 
I have not room to give, in full. It is sufficient, 
perhaps, to say, that the evening is usually the 
best, as it often is the only time of any length, for 
being alone with our own family—a daily meet¬ 
ing which is indispensable ;—that there are many 
considerations connected with health which are 
against it, and that it is by no means the most 
favorable season to morality, and especially to 
good order. 

There are circumstances, however, which render 
it extremely difficult for some people to find time 
for visits, as things are, except in the evening. If 
in such cases a few neighbors choose to meet for 
conversation in the evening, and retire to their 
respective homes at an early hour, there can be no 
very strong objection to the practice; though I 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 


331 


think that in the very best state of society, another 
part of the day would usually be selected. 

3. All social interviews in the form of large 
convivial parties or concerts, are objectionable. 
Not only are they exciting in their own nature, by 
the sympathy which large numbers produce, but 
the excitement is apt to be increased by the use 
of exciting food or drink. These, it is true, are in 
some instances banished ; and people are beginning 
to learn that they can be cheerful and happy in 
each other’s society without fermented or alcoholic 
drinks, and even without tea and coffee, or extra 
food at extra seasons. Still, however, the multi¬ 
tude of those who have not yet learned this very 
important lesson is prodigiously great. 

They who go much to large evening parties and 
concerts, are apt to acquire a disrelish for the 
smaller circles of their own homes. The society 
of one individual, however much it may at first 
have been valued, will at length become insipid 
and monotonous. Why evening parties should 
have this effect more than parties in the daytime, 
I will not undertake to determine ; but I appeal to 
every one whose range of observation is extensive, 
for the truth of the sentiment. 

It will scarcely be necessary, after what I have 
said in this chapter and elsewhere, to inveigh 
against the practice of attending balls, theatres, 


332 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


&c. Surely no young wife who values her repu¬ 
tation or that of her family, will be found in the 
ranks of those who devote their evenings to amuse¬ 
ments abroad, in any form—especially to those 
which are as doubtful in their character and moral 
tendency, as balls and theatres. Home, in the 
evening, is the appropriate place for married peo¬ 
ple, to say nothing of others. 

But what then is an appropriate season for 
social visits; and what are the most favorable 
circumstances in which to assemble for social im¬ 
provement ? 

The afternoon, between the hours, say of 3 (pro¬ 
vided we have dined at 12) and 7 o’clock, is the 
best season for visiting, on every account which 
regards health, economy, or mental or moral cul¬ 
ture. This would embrace the usual season for 
taking the third meal, (or supper, as our plain 
country people call it,) a point which is believed 
to be of very great importance ; for though all 
extra eating and drinking at social visits is to be 
studiously avoided, it is of much importance that 
we eat and drink together at appropriate seasons. 
It is confidently believed that taking our customary 
meals together, provided these meals are plain and 
simple, has an effect “ to make man mild and 
sociable to man,” which has never been too highly 
estimated. I would that mankind ate and drank 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 


333 


together at their ordinary plain meals, much 
oftener than they do. 

Hence may be seen one reason why I am in 
favor of having the elder sons, when they can, 
continue to reside as long as possible under the 
same roof, and eat at the same table with their 
aged parents. 

The refining and improving effects of eating 
together, and the economy of the practice—were 
these alone considered-—are believed to be more 
than sufficient to counterbalance any evils which 
are supposed to result from it. But this is not all. 
The great benefit is the daily and sometimes 
hourly opportunities thus afforded for social im¬ 
provement of the mind and heart. Such an 
arrangement of families would do as much towards 
hastening the millennial glory of the world, as the 
usual arrangement of society into families as small 
as possible, does to retard it. 

I am not in favor of visiting by very large com¬ 
panies, even when it is done in the afternoon. 
The smaller the number, in general, the better. 
When you bring together large numbers, there is 
so much of art, or rather of formality, as greatly to 
diminish the tendency to promote real improve¬ 
ment. 

The conversation need not be confined to 
topics of great acknowledged importance. There 


334 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


is no subject on which it is proper to converse 
publicly at all, which may not be advantageously 
introduced at these social and neighborly inter¬ 
views. I have no objection even to politics. 
Why should not a circle, though it were composed 
exclusively of females, discuss political questions ? 
Would it not be well for every wife in the United 
States, to understand such subjects ? And if so, are 
they improper for the social circle ? I do not say I 
would have them enter into these subjects with the 
fierceness of angry disputants, who have entered 
the arena of public life in pursuit of a sinecure or 
a salary. It is one thing to converse calmly and 
coolly for information, and quite another to dispute 
sharply; and above all, to dispute for the sake of 
disputing, or even for the sake of carrying a point. 

Nothing is more pleasing than to see a circle of 
females giving free scope to conversation on the 
petty as well as larger topics of life, without 
descending to public or private scandal. Nor is 
the latter at all necessary, however fashionable. 

I do not know that females are more addicted 
to scandal than males. But there is in both sexes, 
an unreasonable willingness to hear and even 
propagate remarks which are unfavorable both to 
individuals and collective bodies. It is in accord¬ 
ance with human nature, as we usually find it, to 
speak of the faults of others rather than of their 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 


335 


excellencies. The spirit of the Bible requires us 
to speak of our neighbor’s excellencies in his 
absence, and if he has failings to go and tell him 
of them privately. But depraved human nature 
dictates a course exactly the contrary of all this. 
It seldom leads us to speak of a brother’s faults to 
his face. I might almost say never. And yet we 
do not hesitate to hold them up, sometimes with 
ridicule and reproach, to the view of others. 

There is another thing to be considered. The 
more we allow ourselves to dwell on the defects in 
our neighbor’s character, the more those defects 
rise in magnitude. The more we indulge in un¬ 
kind feelings towards another, the more unkind do 
our feelings become. On the contrary, the more 
we dwell with pleasure on a neighbor’s excel¬ 
lencies, the more does our pleasure increase, with 
respect to him. Let these principles be under¬ 
stood by Christians and acted upon, and how would 
it change the condition of society! And what a 
powerful agent, in this way, would female social 
circles be in its transformation ! 

It is customary at some of our social circles— 
especially at those fashionable and very interesting 
meetings in the afternoon, called “ sewing circles,” 
to spend a large proportion of the time in mere 
reading. This does not seem to me at all advisa¬ 
ble. Reading may be useful to excite conversa- 


33 G 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


tion, if it inclines to flag ; but I would never use 
the former as a substitute for the latter. Not 
because I would not have it a leading object to 
improve the mind and elevate the heart at these 
and all other social meetings; but because I think 
free conversation one of the best means for accom¬ 
plishing so valuable an end. It is on this account 
that I have ventured to say that females may even 
be permitted to converse on politics. I love to 
see ease and freedom in all this sort of intercourse; 
but a book appears to cause constraint. The con¬ 
versation can never indeed be too elevated ; the 
more so the better. I do not contend for the 
admission of petty topics as a matter of choice, so 
much as for the sake of freedom. Some of the 
individuals composing an ordinary social circle, are 
very far from being literary; and those who are of 
this description may probably do quite as much 
good by setting the rest an example of a proper 
and rational way of conversing on ordinary or 
petty topics, at least a part of the time, as they 
could by conversing on more elevated, and, in the 
abstract, more important subjects. 

But while the young wife is seeking to improve 
her mind and heart by associating often with her 
neighbors, in one way or another, let her assidu¬ 
ously endeavor to avoid the appearance of aris¬ 
tocracy. There is a most unhappy, I might say 


SOCIAL IMPROVEMENT. 


337 


unreasonable jealousy of the rich, on the part of 
the poor; and however conscious the former may 
be that they do not deserve to be suspected, let 
them not say that even unfounded and unjust 
suspicions are to be disregarded. Though fully 
conscious that they have no aristocratic feelings in 
their bosoms, let them labor to show their true 
character by their deeds. Let them be careful to 
avoid the smallest appearance of evil. Let them 
select their associates, as much as they may, at all 
other times ; yet, when they have once accepted an 
invitation to a circle where there are those for 
whom they have little sympathy, let them, for the 
time, place themselves on an equal footing with 
them, and treat them with as much attention as 
they do others. 

There need be no hypocrisy in all this. The 
Saviour of mankind sometimes associated with 
publicans and sinners, as well as with other bad 
people ; but will any one suppose, for a moment, 
that he had a preference, or even a relish, for their 
society ? But he could do them good by it; and 
that was his object. And he was not afraid of 
demeaning himself by the course he took. No 
more should a young wife, who associates for a 
few hours with persons whose society she would 
not, in general, prefer. For my own part, F do 
not believe that the unhappy feeling of the poor 
22 


338 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


towards the rich, which prevails more extensively 
in this country than many people are aware, and 
mars the peace and destroys the union of many a 
church of Christ, will ever be completely removed 
till some of the disciples of Christ learn more 
humility and condescension, and endeavor to avoid, 
not only all evil, but even the appearance of all 
evil. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 

Doing good. Many forms of doing good. Philosophy of 
doing good. Associated effort. How to select societies. 
Individual charitable effort. The poor. The ignorant. 
The vicious. The sick. Caution in regard to visiting 
the sick. Prayer as a means of improvement. Self- 
Examination. Reading. The Bible. Other useful books. 


One means of moral and religious improvement 
to every individual, whatever may be his profes¬ 
sions or relations, is doing good. “It is more 
blessed to give than to receive,” expresses a great 
truth in relation to this subject; to which repre¬ 
sentation every one who has watched carefully the 
operations of his own mind, and studied thoroughly 
his own character, will cheerfully respond; and 
the same truth or nearly the same is expressed by 
the two following passages of scripture:—“ He 
that doeth truth cometh to the light.” “ If any 
man will do my will, he shall know of the doctrine 
whether it be of God.” 

I do not, of course, mean to say that there is no 
other source of moral and religious improvement 


340 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


but doing good ; but only that doing good is one 
of the sources—and a never failing one, too—of 
moral progress ; and if our works of love are per¬ 
formed from the sole desire of pleasing God, it can 
scarcely fail of promoting our religious progress, at 
the same time. 

Of doing good there are many, very many 
forms. I need not attempt, here, to show that it is 
not confined to the giving of money; nor indeed to 
the giving of alms of any sort. Every one knows, 
or ought to know, that there is a much wider sphere 
of operation than all this. Indeed, so far as we 
can judge in a world like this, the giving of money 
or goods to the poor is usually the least useful 
charity we can bestow. Much more is done for 
the permanent relief of individuals or families, 
when we induce them to be more industrious, more 
temperate, more pure, more intelligent or more 
healthful. 

Now there are many ways of accomplishing the 
objects here specified. The truth is, we are so 
constituted in this world, that what is done for any 
one individual, let him be ever so mean, is done for 
the whole. It is like adding a drop to the mighty 
ocean, which, though it be but a drop, adds to each 
and every part of the whole expanse. Is it not 
so ? Must it not be so ? Precisely thus is it with 
doing good. Not a particle of the good we do is 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 341 

ever lost. Whether it be done by the young wife 
to her husband, her family, her domestics, (if she 
have any,) her friends, her enemies, her neighbors, 
or the Chinese, makes, in this respect, but little 
difference. It increases by just so much the great 
ocean of human good, and enlarges by just so 
much as it is thus increased, every one’s dividend 
of the whole stock. 

Will it be asked how this is done ? A full reply 
to the question would lead me far away from the 
main subject of the chapter. I should be obliged 
to go to the scripture for the doctrine of sympathy, 
of which Paul makes so much. I should be 
obliged to show, as he has done, only in language 
far less beautiful and eloquent, that as in the 
human body, so in human society, taken as a 
whole, whenever one member suffers, let it be ever 
so apparently insignificant a member, all the rest 
of the members suffer with it; and whenever one 
member rejoices, all the other members rejoice with 
it. I should be obliged to treat at large, by a 
reference to every one’s observation and to history, 
on the dealings of Divine Providence with the 
great human family. And, lastly, I should per¬ 
haps, to complete the argument, be obliged to 
enter upon a lengthy appeal to your own under¬ 
standings on the very nature of the case; in other 
words, endeavor to show that the doctrine is one 


342 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


which approves itself to the sober dictates of com¬ 
mon sense. 

Let us therefore, for the present, take it for 
granted. Let us believe, if we can, that no parti¬ 
cle of good which is done is ever lost; nay, that 
the condition of every intelligent being is really, 
though from its minuteness it may be impercep¬ 
tibly, improved by it. How will such a belief 
strengthen the hand and warm the heart! 

Many a young wife, removed, perhaps, from the 
circle in which she has been accustomed to move, 
and left comparatively alone, excepting the society 
of her husband, is ready to ask, wbat good she can 
do. Now all I hope to do, at the present time, is 
to show her that as long as she has a single 
rational being within her reach, she has the means 
of doing good—as much so, though not exactly in 
the same way, as the missionary to China or 
Hawaii; and that if she makes her husband truly 
and really happier in any way than he would 
otherwise have been, whether it be by enlightening 
his mind, warming his heart—whether by words, 
actions or mere looks—she not only does him 
good, but does good, in strictness of philosophical 
and Bible language, to the most distant savage of 
New Holland or the South Sea; and lastly, that 
whenever a particle of good is thus done, it pro¬ 
motes, in a greater or less degree, her own moral 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 343 


progress ;—that, in short, she is not only bound 
by the laws of the great Creator to every other 
part and portion of his moral world, but that she 
cannot move a step or lift a finger, strictly speaking, 
without affecting,* either beneficially or otherwise, 
the whole of it. 

How does this view of things enhance the value 
of female effort! What individual, either married 
or single, who receives it, can longer complain 
of being a cypher in the world ! How can she 
who has a husband, a brother, a sister, a father, a 
mother, a cousin, a neighbor even, want for oppor¬ 
tunities of usefulness, and consequently for the 
means of moral and religious progress ! 

I have elsewhere spoken of doing good by asso¬ 
ciation. This in modem times has become very 

* Perhaps this view might have been rendered more intel¬ 
ligible by the following illustration:—Every one knows that 
the earth, by a general law, attracts the sun, to a limited 
extent, as truly as the sun attracts the earth. But if so, if 
the whole attracts, then each part of which the whole is 
composed has a share in the work of attraction, and has its 
sphere of influence.—Just so I judge it to be in the moral 
world. Every particle of moral good has its sphere of attrac¬ 
tion and repulsion, and may be said to have its own appro¬ 
priate relations to every other particle; and he who can add 
to the sum total of moral good, in the least conceivable 
degree, adds to the stock of each individual’s happiness, 
taking into consideration his whole existence, both here and 
hereafter. 


344 


THE YOUNG WIFE 


fashionable, and woman, warm hearted as she 
usually is, has caught the spirit. This is matter 
of joy rather than of regret, provided her asso¬ 
ciated efforts are well directed, and are not allowed 
to interfere with the duties which devolve upon 
her as an individual. 

But let us then take it for granted, that woman 
has leisure in which she may properly step aside 
and do something in the way of voluntary associa¬ 
tions. The claims of a number of associations 
present themselves. From these she will probably 
select such as are most congenial to her feelings, 
and best adapted to her circumstances. To such 
she will, it is hoped, for the time be faithful. 
Nothing is more foolish, in my opinion, in either 
*ex, than a desire to become mere nominal mem- 
Oers of a great many societies. It is worse than 
useless ; it is a moral wrong. If we join a society, 
we ought to feel ourselves morally obligated to 
attend its meetings, and by our presence, our 
advice, our efforts—our money, if necessary—help 
forward its operations. If we do this, and do it 
from a right principle, it will most unquestionably 
conduce greatly to our moral and religious progress 
and improvement. 

Yet, after every effort of this kind, there will 
still remain a wide field for doing good as indi¬ 
viduals, to those who are around us. There are in 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 345 

almost every neighborhood, the poor, or the igno¬ 
rant, or the vicious, or the sick. All these are 
often within the reach of the voluntary efforts of 
any charitable individual. 

She may find employment for the poor, or at 
least she can make the attempt. She has “ her 
reward,” even if she fails. Or if she can do no 
more, she can see and sympathize with them ; for 
even this will warm her heart and accelerate her 
progress in the path of virtue and piety. 

She may instruct the ignorant, or at least cause 
them to be instructed. There are many ways of 
doing this. She may do it by inducing parents to 
send them to school—to the infant, district, or 
Sabbath school. She may do it by giving them 
books or tracts, or by inducing them to buy them. 
She may do it by conversation, both with parents 
and with children. 

She may reclaim the vicious—at least she may 
hope to do something towards it. It is doing 
something toward this to find them employment, 
and to provide for their instruction. 

But there is no office in which woman appears 
more like an angel, than when she is found visiting 
and relieving, or endeavoring to relieve the sick or 
the afflicted, and pouring into their minds and 
hearts, the oil and wine of consolation. Sympathy 
with the sick is a duty which is too often withheld. 


346 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


It is often said that if we cannot do the sick any 
good, it is best not to go near them. I grant it. 
But we can do them good. We often do them a 
great deal of good simply by letting it be known 
that we take the pains to inquire after them. 

I am not at all in favor of injuring the sick by 
useless or worse than useless visits. Everything 
should be under the direction of the physician. 
Many a sick person has been hastened out of the 
world by our presence and anxieties, when our 
services were not wanted. But it is easy to call 
and inquire of the friends how the sick do, without 
going near them ; and it is easy to inform the sick 
that such and such individuals make inquiries and 
take a deep interest in them, without frightening 
them by it. On the contrary, if done properly, it 
will generally increase their cheerfulness, their 
courage, and their hopes—and this, if it can be 
done without too much expense, always does good. 
Multitudes might be saved by our sympathies, as 
well as by our money, or our more direct personal 
efforts. 

In short, the way to do good in this world is 
exceedingly broad. I have, in these remarks, 
merely glanced at it. Let it not be said, that I 
involve myself in a contradiction, and say at one 
time that home is the province of women, while 
at others, I would send her abroad half her time, 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 347 

on works of charity. All I mean to say is, that if 
woman has not enough to do at home, or thinks 
she has not, there is no occasion for sitting down 
in inaction, or wasting her conversation or her 
strength in a way which will not only fail to pro¬ 
mote her happiness or her piety, but will jeopardize 
if not gradually destroy both. 

But though I estimate benevolent action as a 
means of self-improvement very highly, it is veiy 
far from being the only or the principal means of 
moral and religious progress. I need not surely 
remind the reader of the tendency of prayer to 
this end, since I conceive it to be so intimately 
connected with charitable efforts, that the one 
usually accompanies the other. True it is, that 
we may give all our goods to feed the poor, as 
Paul has expressed it, and yet be destitute of 
genuine love to God and man ; but I have been 
taking my reader to possess this love or charity in 
the first place, and to be moved by it to action ; 
and if thus moved, I still say that the benevolent 
efforts of the individual will, almost inevitably, be 
accompanied by prayer. Who can labor daily 
and assiduously for the improvement of a husband 
or any other dear relation, and not at the same 
time pray for him ? Who can join in the cause of 
temperance or moral reform and not pray ? Who 
can visit the abodes of ignorance, and vice, and 


34S 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


disease, and not be often at the throne of divine 
grace, pleading for wisdom to direct in every effort 
for their removal ? 

The bare mention of prayer, in a work like this, 
will doubtless disturb some of the fastidious, and 
lead them to cry out, bigotry. On this point, 
there are individuals among us who might take a 
hint from the Mohammedans. When some of the 
ladies of the ship Delaware—so we are told by Mr. 
Jones, in his excursions to Cairo, Jerusalem, &c.— 
were admitted to the harem of the Pasha of Egypt, 
at Cairo, they found that their presence did not 
hinder the sultana from retiring at the exact time 
for prayers. Such is the strictness of the Moham¬ 
medans in this matter; and yet Christians are 
almost ashamed to speak of prayer, or have others 
do it, lest they should be thought superstitious or 
bigoted. 

Nor is self-examination of less importance, in its 
place, than prayer. It was a sacred rule with the 
Pythagoreans, every evening to think over, three 
times, the events of the day ; and it would be 
well if Christians were equally attentive to a duty 
which is as important and useful now, as it was 
two or three thousand years ago. . How much the 
habit of self-examination conduces to our improve¬ 
ment can never be known, or indeed imagined, by 
those who have not tried it. Indeed, it is difficult 


MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 349 

to conceive how one can be a Christian, or esteem 
herself so, who neglects so important a duty. 
Happy is she whose habits are in this respect what 
they should be ! And happier still the husband 
and wife, who, in addition to their duties to them¬ 
selves, separately, have their stated daily seasons 
for mutual free conversation, suggestion and cor¬ 
rection. What an important aid would this be, 
to progress in the path of the just towards that 
world, to which, by the eye of faith, they are 
looking! 

Lastly, much moral and religious aid may be 
derived from books. Of these, the first in impor¬ 
tance is the Bible. The claims of this book, 
independent of the consideration that it is divinely 
inspired, are exceedingly high. It is full of human 
nature ; and they who wish to study themselves, or 
to rise above their present condition and advance 
towards the purer region of the perfect, should 
make it a daily counsellor. It is not the language of 
mere compliment when we speak of its superiority. 
Men of mere literary taste, who cared very little 
for its divine origin or inspiration, have testified the 
same thing concerning it. They say that, viewed 
as a mere work of human composition, there is 
nothing like it. I beg the young wife to study— 
above all other books—this interesting and all- 
important volume. 


350 


TIIE YOUNG WIFE 


Next to this, perhaps, comes Watts’Improve¬ 
ment of the Mind.” This is a most splendid pro¬ 
duction, and will stand as a monument of the piety 
as well as talent of the writer, while time shall 
last. There are many more valuable treatises in 
our libraries, among which are Mason on Self- 
Knowledge, Degerando on Self-Education, and 
Doddridge’s Rise and Progress of Religion. These 
works alone are a host; and carefully read and 
studied, can scarcely fail to bring forth the most 
valuable fruits. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 

Mode of female influence on the husband Mr. Flint’s enco- 
mium. Examples of female influence. Wife of Jonathan 
Edwards—of Sir James Mackintosh. True position of 
woman in society. Serious error of some modern writers 
A caution. Making haste to be rich. A species of mania. 
Its extent and evils. How the young wife is concerned 
with it. What she can do to remove it. Agur’s prayer— 
seldom used in modern times. Particular modes of female 
influence. Office seeking. How to dissuade from it. 
Exposures to intemperance. Female consistency. Female 
piety. Its effects on the husband—compared with amia¬ 
bleness and beauty. Apparent objection to the writer’s 
views. Woman’s prerogative. 

Every wife has it in her power to make her 
husband either better or worse. This result is 
accomplished, not merely by giving advice, nor by 
advice and instruction alone. Both these have 
their influence; and as means of improvement, 
should not be neglected. But it is by the general 
tone and spirit of her conversation, as manifesting 
the temper and disposition of the heart, that she 
makes the most abiding impressions. These are 


352 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


modifying his character daily and hourly ; some¬ 
times even when absent. The thought of what a 
wife wishes or expects, especially when a letter or 
paper is occasionally received from her or from 
some member of the family, is silently and perhaps 
unconsciously changing a husband’s character. 

So obvious is this, that it has become a matter 
of common observation. Every one is ready to 
observe the change produced in a husband by a 
second marriage. Now is it probable that this 
change is greater than that which was produced in 
him at the first marriage, except that in the second 
case it is less expected, and there are more inter¬ 
ested observers ? And yet it is so great as to 
have led to the very general belief that step¬ 
mothers have- an uncommon—I was going to say a 
sort of magic—influence. 

It is by no means denied that the influence, in 
the matrimonial state, is reciprocal. No doubt it 
is. But I am not writing now for husbands, 
directly. Besides, however great may be the 
changes wrought in the wife by the husband, those 
which are wrought in the latter by the wife are 
frequently more surprising as well as more perma¬ 
nent. 

But if it be true that woman is thus silently 
changing the current of man’s affections, and the 
tenor of his thoughts and habits, how important 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 353 

that she should be well taught! How worthy of 
consideration the claims which have been urged in 
the preceding pages, and the motives which I have 
endeavored to present for her improvement! And 
how important—nay, how just—in this point of 
view, was the remark of Mr. Flint, in one of the 
numbers of the Western Review—“ If this world,” 
said he, “ is ever to become a better and a hap¬ 
pier world, woman, properly educated and truly 
benevolent, sensible of her influence and wise 
enough to exert it aright, must be the original 
mover in the great work.” 

“ I tremble for the man who does not tremble 
for himself,” was once said in reference to the 
temptations which exist in this country of abun¬ 
dance, to become intemperate. In like manner, I 
tremble for the woman who, in view of the nature 
and extent of her influence on man—and primarily 
on her husband and family—does not tremble, lest 
it should not be so good an influence as it ought to 
be—such, indeed, as she may wish a thousand 
ages hence it had been. It is truly a solemn sub¬ 
ject, and I envy not those who can make light of 
it. They will not make light of it when standing 
by the bed of death, or when their own hour of dis¬ 
solution has arrived. They will not make light of it 
when they stand in the judgment, or when they 
come to inhabit eternity. 


•354 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


It has been said of the wife of Jonathan Ed¬ 
wards, that by enabling him to put forth his powers 
unembarrassed, she conferred a greater benefit 
upon mankind, than all the female public charac¬ 
ters that ever lived or ever will live. A similar 
remark might be applied to the mother of almost 
every great and good. man. Woman’s true great¬ 
ness consists, so it seems to me, in rendering others 
useful, rather than in being directly useful herself. 
Or, in other words, it is less her office to be seen 
and known in society, than to make others seen 
and known, and their influence felt. 

I might give numerous examples and illustra¬ 
tions of the principle 1 am endeavoring to sustain, 
both in this country and elsewhere. I might speak 
of the mother and the wife of Washington, of the 
mother of Dwight, Franklin, Wilberforce, White- 
field, Timothy, and hundreds of others ; for it was 
by the exercise of the duties not only of the 
mother, but of the wife, that these illustrious char¬ 
acters were brought forth to the world. But 1 
will confine myself to- a single instance ; and that 
one in which the influence upon the husband was 
direct. 

The case to which I refer, is that of Sir James 
Mackintosh, whose fame as a jurist, a statesman 
and a writer is well known, not only in Europe 
and America, but in India; and whose efforts in 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 355 

the cause of science and humanity have rarely 
been equalled. Few men have done more, in the 
progress of a long life, than he ; and few have, at 
any rate, been more distinguished for extensive 
learning, large views, and liberal principles, in law,, 
politics and philosophy; but especially in his fa¬ 
vorite department of the law. It was he of whom 
Sir Walter Scott said, on a certain occasion, that 
he made “ the most brilliant speech ever made, at 
bar, or in forum.” Yet this great man, if we may 
believe his own story, owed no small share of his 
greatness to the assistance and influence of his 
wife. Of this the following extract from a letter 
of his to a friend, describing her character, after 
her decease, will most abundantly prove. The 
last clause includes, it will be seen, a passing 
tribute to another person—probably his mother— 
which doubles the value of the extract I have 
made in exhibiting the influence of two females in 
the formation of character, instead of but one. 

“ Allow me, in justice to her memory, to tell 
you what she was, and what I owed her. I was 
guided in my choice only by the blind affection of 
my youth. I found an intelligent companion, and 
a tender friend, a prudent monitress, the most 
faithful of wives, and a mother as tender as chil¬ 
dren ever had the misfortune to lose. I met a 
woman who, by the tender management of my 


356 


THE YOUNG WIEE. 


weaknesses, gradually corrected the most perni¬ 
cious of them. She became prudent from affec¬ 
tion ; and though of the most generous nature, she 
was taught frugality and economy by her love for 
me. 

“During the most critical period of my life, she 
preserved order in my affairs, from the care of 
which she relieved me. She gently reclaimed me 
from dissipation; she propped my weaK and irreso¬ 
lute nature ; she urged my indolence to all the 
exertions that have been useful or creditable to 
me, and she was perpetually at hand to admonish 
my heedlessness and improvidence. To her I 
owe whatever I am ; to her, whatever I shall be. 
In her solicitude for my interest, she never for a 
moment forgot my feelings or my character. Even 
in her occasional resentments, for which I but too 
often gave her cause, (would to God I could recall 
those moments,) she had no sullenness or acrimony. 
Her feelings were warm and impetuous, but she 
was placable, tender and constant. 

“ Such was she whom I have lost; and I have 
lost her when her excellent natural sense was 
rapidly improving, after eight years of struggle and 
distress had bound us fast to each other—when a 
knowledge of her worth had refined my youthful 
love into friendship, before age had deprived it of 
much of its original ardor. I lost her, alas, (t!>e 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 357 

choice of my youth and the partner of my misfor¬ 
tunes,) at a moment when I had a prospect of her 
sharing my better days. 

“ The philosophy which I have learnt, only 
teaches me that virtue and friendship are the great¬ 
est of human blessings, and that their loss is irre¬ 
parable. It aggravates my calamity, instead of 
consoling me under it. My wounded heart seeks 
another consolation. Governed by these feelings, 
which have in every age and region of the world 
actuated the human mind, I seek relief, and I find 
it, in the soothing hope and consolatory opinion, 
that a benevolent wisdom inflicts the chastise¬ 
ments, as well as bestows the enjoyments of human 
life ; that superintending goodness will one day 
enlighten the darkness which surrounds our nature, 
and hangs over our prospects ; that this dreary 
and wretched life is not the whole of man ; that 
an animal so sagacious and provident, and capable 
of such proficiency in science and virtue, is not 
like the beasts that perish; that there is a dwelling 
place prepared for the spirits of the just, and that 
the ways of God will yet be vindicated to man. 
The sentiments of religion, which were implanted 
in my mind in my early youth, and which were 
revived by the awful scenes which I have seen 
passing before my eyes in the world, are I trust 
deeply rooted in my heart by this great calamity.” 


358 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Who-—what wife, especially—can read these 
paragraphs, without feeling a desire enkindled 
within her to be distinguished in the world, not so 
much in her own name as by her influence on her 
husband and family, and through them on others ? 
She thus becomes not so much the instrument of 
human amelioration, as the moving agent. 

But a little explanation may be desirable. I 
am not inculcating Mohammedan or Pagan no¬ 
tions in regard to woman. I still insist on her 
having a distinct character; and no one is more 
forward than myself in opposing the idea of her 
merging her own individuality in that of her hus¬ 
band. f insist on her forming for herself a char¬ 
acter quite independent of his ; and a perfect one, 
too. In becoming a wife, I say again, no individual 
is to dispossess herself of any trait of character 
which was hers before. She is still an independent 
woman, notwithstanding: just as I am none the 
less an independent man, by becoming a member 
of some association. My new character and the 
new duties are superinduced—added to the duties 
which existed before. In the same way we lose 
nothing—dispossess ourselves of nothing—when 
we form new relations. No person is the less a 
brother, a sister, a child, a neighbor, or a citizen, 
because he or she has entered into the bonds of 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 359 


matrimony. New duties are indeed added, and 
new obligations imposed ; but the old ones remain. 
We have, in effect, so many different characters to 
sustain ; and marriage only adds one—though a 
very important one—to the number already exist¬ 
ing. The wife, in becoming one with her hus¬ 
band, and forming, in one point of view, a new 
and more perfect character, loses nothing, of ne¬ 
cessity, of her individuality; nor does her husband. 
Nay, more—much more than all this—the latter is, * 
or at least ought to become so much the more 
perfect by it. 

Perhaps, after all, there is nothing peculiar in 
the sentiments I have advanced; but as the lan¬ 
guage was open to a little misconstruction, it was 
thought desirable to render it as intelligible as 
possible. The necessity for doing this, seemed to 
me to be greater, in consequence of the efforts 
which have been made, for some time past, to 
encourage woman, either directly or indirectly, to 
think more of her individual influence, both literary 
and political. 

I do not know that any direct attempts have 
been made to disparage woman, as a wife and as a 
mother, but such has been the tendency of things, 
indirectly. Hannah More, and Felicia Hemans, 
and Harriet Martineau, and Miss Somerville are 


360 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


lauded, not so much because they are excellent 
wives, mothers, daughters or sisters, as because 
they are excellent poets, moralists, or mathemati¬ 
cians ; and it has been publicly asserted as a bless¬ 
ing to the world, that Hannah More never entered 
into married life ! As if her labors, valuable as 
chey are, would bear, for one moment, a comparison 
<vith those of the wife of Jonathan Edwards or 
fames Mackintosh. 

Nor is this all. It is not men alone who have 
complimented the aspirations of the other sex to 
literary or political fame. Females themselves are 
beginning to make claims. “ Henceforth,” says 
Miss Martineau, “ when men fire at the name of 
Flora Mclvor, let women say—There will be 
more Floras when women feel that they have 
political power and duties.” 

The truth is, that these characters, however 
valuable to the world they may be, would be more 
valuable if more devoted to their appropriate 
sphere. But has not the custom of lauding to the 
skies such individuals, while thousands in useful 
domestic life have been overlooked and forgotten, 
been one reason why so many young females of 
the present day have such aversion to the kitchen, 
and gravely tell us they would almost as soon die 
as have their hands employed in dish water ? 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 361 

Having thus expressed my views, in a general 
way, I may now be allowed to enter into a little 
more of detail. My object will be to mention a 
few particulars in which the young wife’s influence 
on her husband will be especially valuable. 

Most men are too much devoted to money¬ 
making. Nor is this the worst. They are not 
merely desirous of becoming wealthy, in a reasona¬ 
ble time and in proportion to their own diligent 
efforts ; for were it so, the evil would be more tol¬ 
erable. But they are in haste to be rich. 

There was a period in the history of our coun¬ 
try, especially of the New England division of it, 
when a few individuals might be found who could 
join in the prayer of Agur—“ Give me neither 
poverty nor riches.” But how strangely are the 
times altered ! Where is now the man who can, 
from the heart, utter this prayer ? Where is he 
whose prayer is not—I do not say his words, but 
his real prayer, his desire —Give me riches; and 
give it to me immediately : I cannot wait. 

Once it was only a few individuals in the com¬ 
munity who could hope to acquire wealth, unless 
born to its possession. There were few Solomons 
or Croesuses. It is even so now, in some parts 
of the world. The nobles are comparatively 
few. But what was once the sin of the prince 
or the tyrant who controlled the community, 


362 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


is now the sin of nearly every individual com¬ 
posing it. Especially is this true of the com¬ 
munity in which we live. The mantle of liberty 
has indeed descended to us from our fathers ; but 
for what ? What, indeed, but that we may use 
our liberty in making haste to be rich—and in 
taking every advantage of doing this which the 
letter of the law, or of public sentiment, which is 
nearly the same thing, does not positively prohibit ? 

Hence the spirit of speculation , which every¬ 
where prevails, and which has even seized on the 
hearts of many who profess to be governed by 
better motives. I fear there are some professing 
Christians who do not hesitate to enter into any sort 
of speculation which the public sentiment does not 
denounce, provided they have a strong hope of 
filling their pockets by it. 

The following sentiments, from the editor of a 
paper in this city, so well express my own views 
on this subject, that I have obtained leave to copy 
them for this place : 

“We do not mean to be understood, in our 
remarks, as censuring the ordinary exchange of 
one commodity for another, at a reasonable profit, 
but that grasping after enormous advances, and 
profits in trade, by which men are continually 
making haste to be rich. How variously this 
unhallowed spirit has developed itself within a few 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 363 

years past, let the history of those years tell. It 
is enough to say, that money, lands, houses and 
merchandize have all been subjected to this un 
natural and unholy mode of transfer, until specu¬ 
lation has almost usurped the place of honest 
trade. Thousands have left a respectable calling, 
in which they were reasonably prosperous, to em¬ 
bark in speculation ; and many of them have been 
ruined by it. They made haste to be rich. 

“ It is a lamentable truth, that professing Chris¬ 
tians have extensively engaged in this species of 
gambling. One of the great evils which results 
from this unholy love of gain, is, that it secularizes 
the feelings of those engaged in it, and thus 
becomes an opposing principle of the gospel; the 
object of which is, to destroy the worldliness of 
the heart, and make it spiritual and heavenly. 
This secular spirit is brought into the church ; it 
pervades its councils, and throws its influence over 
the body of worshipping saints. A few who 
breathe it, soon bring the feelings and policy of 
that branch of the church with which they are 
connected, to a perfect conformity with their own ; 
and a system of worldly wisdom and prudence 
takes the place of the gospel rule of duty, while 
faith and humility are trampled in the dust. 

“All the love of God which has shed itself 
abroad in the hearts of his children, all the mercy 


364 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


which gathered like a halo around the cross of 
Christ, all the incentives to hope and gratitude 
which eternity unfolds, as well as the terrors of the 
second death itself, have been unavailing to induce 
men, and even professing Christians too, to relin¬ 
quish their grasp upon earthly things, or banish 
from their hearts the unhallowed love of gain. 

“ What a spectacle is here presented. A com¬ 
munity which owes its existence to, and professes 
to derive its support from certain spiritual truths, 
obsequiously bows itself down to the government 
of worldly maxims; and meanly submits to be 
directed by the art and cunning of unsanctified 
men. But this is, and ever must be the result, 
when those upon whom are the vows of God, 
make haste to be rich. 

“ The effect is, if possible, worse on individual 
minds, than on the body of the church. Not only 
does the watchfulness and anxiety, the bustle and 
confusion, attendant upon speculation, clash with 
the peaceful spirit of piety, but the heart thus 
accustomed to worldliness, becomes indurated with 
it; and when the effect is once produced, powerful 
indeed must that influence be, which can soften 
and mould into the image of God, the petrified 
soul. With how little weight does the word of 
the Lord come upon the ear of such a man. Ac¬ 
customed mostly to instruments conveying pro- 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 365 

perty or securing it, the awful truths of the Bible 
cease to have their own simple, native force upon 
the mind. Speculation destroys the moral sense ; 
shuts up the avenues of the soul; and encases it 
in an armor, which is proof against the shafts of 
spiritual truth. 

“ And while it does this, it at the same time 
takes the Christian from his place by the throne, 
and bears him where his feeble voice cannot reach 
the Almighty. It shuts up the way to the mercy 
seat. How can any man confide in Christ, while 
the fact flashes full in his face, that he walks by 
sight and not by faith ? How can he believe, 
while he knows he is daily disobeying that com¬ 
mand of God—“ Lay not up for yourselves trea¬ 
sures upon earth ? ” How can he have access to 
the Father, while he knows his whole life is the 
opposite of the apostles, who looked not upon the 
things which are seen, but upon those which are 
unseen ? As the spirit of speculation hinders 
access to the throne in prayer, and shuts up all 
the avenues to the soul, how soon does the light 
of God become extinct in the heart.” 

Is it asked how this concerns the young wife ? 
Surely such a question is not necessary. Has 
she no influence in continuing this lamentable 
state of things ? On the contrary, is it not in hei 
power to extend and promote, or to limit and even 


366 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


to suppress it, at her option ? Has God given her 
the power to mould the character of her husband 
almost as she will, and has she no sort of control 
over his love for making money ? 

That it may require a great deal of time to turn 
the current of thought in a worldly young man— 
such as most young men are supposed to be, at 
marriage, and give it a more rational direction, is 
most true ; but that it cannot be done at all, no 
one will pretend who has the least knowledge of 
human nature as it is, or of the motives which 
govern human action. And when I see a man go 
on from the day of his marriage to the end of life, 
in one continued series of effort to lay up property, 
as the principal object worth possessing, and when, 
above all, I see aged men, like aged trees, 

“ Strike deeper and cling closer their vile roots, 

Still more enamored of this wretched soil, 

I cannot forbear to conclude that no effort has 
Deen made, worth the name, to prevent such a 
state of things, and to fear that the mania has 
possessed not only the husband, but also the wife. 

The last suggestion—suspicion rather—may be 
revolting to some minds. Female avarice is, I 
confess, particularly shocking. But such a thing 
there is, shocking as it may be. There are fe¬ 
males, there are wives even, to be found, not a 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 367 

whit less avaricious than their husbands. For the 
honor of human nature, however, we may hope 
their number is not large. 

There Is a class of persons in society, who, 
though they see and feel the enormity of the 
evil I have mentioned, do yet, in their ignorance, 
sustain and encourage it. Nor is their number 
very small, either. Tell them this, and they will 
shudder. And yet nothing can be more true, as I 
shall now endeavor to show. 

These individuals may possibly think they can 
say, with Agur—Give me neither poverty noi 
riches. They may suppose they only desire a 
competence. But their ideas of what constitutes 
a competence differ greatly from Agur’s. Besides, 
I doubt whether they really believe they could 
utter—from the heart—his prayer. They proba¬ 
bly believe, as is the more general belief, that riches 
are in themselves a blessing. What they shudder 
at, is the idea of being so devoted to them as to 
take wrong, or at least unchristian methods to 
procure them. Against these, they would protest; 
and against these they may not fail, from time to 
time, to caution their husbands. They will do it, 
moreover, in the sincerity of their hearts. They 
regard an over-anxiety to get or lay up money as 
not only abhorrent in the sight of God, but abso¬ 
lutely vulgar. 


368 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


Such, I say, are their feelings when they con¬ 
template the subject of buying, and selling, and 
laboring, merely to get gain. That is, in the ab¬ 
stract, they disapprove of avarice altogether, and 
they do not hesitate !o beg their husbands nevei to 
fall under its influence. 

Now I hardly need repeat here, what has been 
more than once insisted on already, that it is not 
our precepts that form character so much, even in 
the relation of husband and wife, and parent and 
child, as our example. It is the spirit which we 
manifest; the tone of our conversation ; the lan¬ 
guage of our looks, habits and actions. 

A young wife says to her husband—and in sin¬ 
cerity, too, no doubt—I hope you will not enter 
into any sort of speculation, or run any large risks, 
like Mr. T. and Gen. L. Do let us be contented 
with a small income; and if Providence gives us 
more than we need, we know of charitable uses 
enough to which we can apply it. I do hope, 
moreover, you will not make a slave of yourself. 
After being employed a reasonable number of 
hours daily, it is your duty—and I need not tell 
you how much it will contribute to your own hap¬ 
piness, and the happiness of others—to spend the 
rest of your time with your family—conversing 
with and instructing them, and occasionally visiting 
your neighbors. 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 369 

But of how little avail is such language, when 
she seizes on every convenient occasion to speak 
in the highest terms of Mr. T.’s beautiful house, 
and furniture, and garden, and grounds, and of his 
elegant horses and carriages, and convenient help ; 
and contrasts these often with their own ? Or 
when she speaks often of Gen. L.’s industrious 
habits, commends him for his thrift, and says it is 
doubtless owing, in part, to the fact that he is con¬ 
stantly in the shop from five o’clock in the morning 
till nine at night—is not her meaning obvious : 
Does any husband, who is not an idiot, misunder¬ 
stand such language ? And when it is reiterated 
from day to day, when it is introduced with greater 
ease, dwelt upon with greater pleasure, and con¬ 
tinued longer than almost any other topic of con¬ 
versation, must it not have a powerful influence 
upon him ? 

He loves his wife, and loves to see her happy. 
And though he may disapprove of her devotion to 
externals, yet he finds her high estimation of them 
has become inwoven, as it were, in her very con¬ 
stitution ; and though he labors zealously to re¬ 
move it, he finds, to his regret, that early impres¬ 
sions on this subject, as well as on most others, are 
with very great difficulty effaced. 

Actions, it is said, speak louder than words. A 

female may show what her inclinations are in 
24 


370 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


fegard to houses, furniture, equipage, servants, food, 
dress, he., without saying much about them. Most 
husbands know enough of the character of their 
wives to know on what their hearts are set, without 
the assistance even of language. 

But it is in vain for the wife to say one thirig, 
while in her heart she means another. Her good 
counsels, like the foregoing, cannot have a very 
deep or lasting effect, while the husband perceives, 
as clearly as he sees the sun at noon-day, that 
though she thinks she despises wealth, in the ab¬ 
stract, she fondly hankers after that which wealth 
alone can procure or enable her to use. And is 
there any doubt in regard to the course of conduct 
which, under such circumstances, he will pursue ? 

Should these thoughts meet the eye of any indi¬ 
vidual who is thus unconsciously luring her hus¬ 
band along the downward road to misery, and 
robbing herself and others of the pleasure and 
advantages of his society in the journey of life, I 
beg her to stop and reflect before she goes farther. 
Let her consider, I say, her own present happiness 
and the happiness of those around her ; but what 
is of still more importance, let her cast a thought 
forward to the great future, and consider what will 
be the consequences of this love of possession, 
not to one or two or half a dozen persons, but to 
gTeat multitudes, hundreds of ages hence. Let 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 371 

her, in one word, try to form some correct notion 
of the nature and extent of human responsibility. 

Not a few young husbands, in a country where 
all may aspire to the highest offices, will be found 
on the list of office-seekers. Now advice here may 
be less necessary to the wife than on most other 
subjects ; and yet who shall say that she is in no 
danger of falling short of her duty, and even of her 
own ultimate wishes, in the course she may be led 
to pursue ? 

She does not indeed advise him to seek to be 
distinguished in this way; for she cares less about 
state or national affairs, in themselves considered, 
than we may sometimes suppose. There is cer¬ 
tainly something true in the saying of a learned 
physiologist, that with woman “ a man ”—her 
husband especially—“is more than a nation by 
which is meant, not that she is totally regardless 
of national affairs, but that her husband and his 
respectability at home are everything to her, com¬ 
paratively speaking, and the nation only a secon¬ 
dary matter. 

And yet, as a means of attaining to that felicity 
which they suppose a certain condition in regard 
to externals will procure, there are not a few ex¬ 
cellent women who will not only refrain from dis¬ 
couraging their husbands in the pursuit, but will 


379 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


even encourage them, at least indirectly, in their 
efforts at distinction. 

Now let that female who is not only willing but 
anxious that her husband should obtain an office 
and a salary, remember that almost all civil offices 
in this country are very dearly bought. Let her 
refrain from encouraging what may at best prove a 
snare—morally—to all who are or may be con¬ 
cerned in the results. Let her not only do this, 
but let her make every reasonable effort to dis¬ 
courage an inordinate degree of ambition, by turning 
his thoughts into some other more favorable and 
useful channel. 

But as I have said in relation to the mania for 
money-making, so I say in regard to office-seeking— 
it will be of comparatively little use to talk to a 
husband against the folly or wickedness of seeking 
office, while you show, plainly, if it be only by 
your eye and the tone of your voice, that you are 
deeply interested in the external circumstances of 
Mr. B.’s family, since they came into the posses¬ 
sion of a salary. You must first purify your own 
heart; for it is out of the abundance of the heart 
that the mouth speaketh ; and if the heart is in¬ 
clined to parade, it will not fail to show itself, 
though you may not go so far as to say a single 
word on the subject. 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 373 

Perhaps your husband is in danger of intempe¬ 
rance, or you fear he is. He stops occasionally at 
doubtful places, or falls in occasionally with doubt¬ 
ful company. Will you therefore rate or scold 
him ? Can you do more than to make home as 
agreeable as possible, and allure him to it by your 
cheerful, sprightly conversation, your love of study, 
and your fondness for his society in preference to 
that of .all others ? 

I have said enough elsewhere of the importance 
of making your husband’s home a happy one—a 
scene of the purest pleasure and the most exalted 
improvement. If this point is not gained, remem¬ 
ber that nothing is gained. All else goes for 
nothing, while home is not pleasant, and while 
one regards it as but doing penance to be there. 

In short, unless you love your husband as you 
ought, and have caught the spirit of improvement, 
you will never succeed in finding anything worthy 
the name of happiness below the sun. But with 
this love and this spirit, and a good fund of plain 
common sense, you will not, you cannot fail to be 
happy. With this, all external circumstances will 
be pleasant—at least comparatively so. Life will 
be such as will be likely to secure life’s great end; 
and death will be but the door to a better and 
more enduring state of happiness. 


3,4 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


I cannot close without saying a few words in 
regard to one thing of which I may not yet have 
spoken with sufficient plainness. I allude to pen- 
sonal piety. The desire for improvement must 
include the desire of being everything which God 
made us to be, and of rendering others such, or it 
falls far short of its highest object. 

Is there anything which can ornament female 
character, whether in the single or the married 
state, but especially the latter, like deep, heart-felt, 
practical piety ? What like this can make woman, 
frail as she is, so much like an angel on earth ? 
What, like this, can render the vale of tears she is 
destined to pass, in any tolerable degree comfort¬ 
able ? Amiableness, in all its forms, is attractive 
and lovely; especially when accompanied by a 
well-cultivated and well-balanced mind. Yet what 
is it without piety ? 

The same remarks may be made, and with still 
greater force, in regard to beauty. This, when 
accompanied by a refined mind, is almost irresis¬ 
tible. Yet what is it without piety ? Dr. Young 
says that wit without sense is worse than nothing ; 
since it only “ hoists more sail to run against a 
rock.” So is it—or rather much worse—with 
oeauty, when alone. It serves but to foster weak¬ 
ness, vanity and pride, and to become a lure to a 
species of idolatry—the worshipping of self. 


MORAL INFLUENCE ON THE HUSBAND. 375 

Such, I may again say, is human nature, that 
without piety its evil qualities are ever ready to 
break out in their worst shapes. Amiableness has 
its charms—beauty too is charming—and virtue is 
above both ; but piety excels them all. Piety is 
like a diamond in the midst of pearls. It is a sun, 
that enlivens, cheers and warms all around it. 

All that I have thus said would apply to the 
female in every condition of human life ; but it is 
especially applicable to the wife. It is so in every 
point of view which concerns herself. It is so, 
also, in reference to the influence she is to exert 
upon her husband. 

Is it too much to say, that every wife holds, in 
this respect, an almost absolute power over her 
husband ? Is it too much to say, that the influence 
of her example is beyond the power of human 
calculation ? Is it beyond the truth to say, that 
piety in a young wife, who is truly beloved, is 
irresistible ? 

And yet all husbands, it will be said, are not 
pious, even though they have pious wives. True; 
but all husbands do not love their wives. There is 
much of marrying for other and more ignoble pur¬ 
poses than genuine affection, or even solid esteem. 

There is, however, another consideration. All 
wives are not pious who seem to be. We must be 
cautious, therefore, about deciding on the ineffi- 


376 


THE YOUNG WIFE. 


ciency of true piety, when embodied in constant 
and consistent female example. Have we full 
evidence that such preaching—where true affection 
is not a stranger—was ever permanently and suc¬ 
cessfully resisted during the whole of a long life ? 
On the contrary, do not the numerous examples 
of reformation which exist where female piety, 
impressed by consistent example, and recommended 
by the most tender love, allow us to infer, that, 
if not absolutely irresistible, it is little short of it ? 

Has the influence of woman in the work of hu¬ 
man redemption, received the attention which it 
deserves, even from Christians ? Her agency in the 
fall is duly acknowledged, and perhaps duly felt. 
But is it not the proud prerogative of the pious 
wife to be as efficient in the work of restoring, as 
she was in the work of ruining the race ? Is she 
second to any but the Christian minister in the 
great work of an educator—in the sacred employ¬ 
ment of elevating the noble part of man, and 
directing it to the blissful abodes for which it was 
originally created ? 




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